Untouchable
by zerotherat
Summary: Hermione Granger can't get past the last battle. While all of her friends go on with their lives, she's trapped in an endless nightmare loop of the past. Then, one rainy summer night, she decides to end her life. But someone stops her. Will he be able to convince her that she isn't untouchable and that life can be worth living, even though he himself is haunted by his own demons?
1. Chapter 1

Five years after the defeat of Lord Voldemort, Hermione Granger still had no idea what to do with her life. She was confused, something that did not happen very often. Her friends had been able to move on with their lives. Ron had become a competent Auror, quickly moving up in his department and gaining recognition for his genius strategies. Harry had become a professional Quidditch player, a seeker for the Puddlemere United. He and Ginny had gotten back together, and both looked content. Hermione often had tea with Ginny, trying hard not to stare at her swelling belly where her and Harry's first child rested. Neville had gone on to become the new Herbology teacher after Pomona Sprout retired. Luna had taken over _The Quibbler _ and had gained the magazine national literary awards.

Why, Hermione wondered, was it so hard for her to move on? Night terrors haunted her. Every time she fell asleep, Bellatrix's face laughed at her. Voldemort's cruel red eyes glared from the darkness. She dreamed about Sirius falling through the veil, the dagger plunging into Dobby 's chest and the laugh that remained on Fred Weasley's face when he fell to the ground, dead. She would wake up, soaked in sweat and clutching her left arm, her fingers running over the knotted scarring. _Mudblood._

She had lost weight and her face was wan and pale. Dark circles loomed under her eyes. Her friends were concerned. She went to Harry for help.

"Do what I do," Harry advised. "Don't think of it. Put all of it out of your mind and enjoy the present."

"But Harry," Hermione cried, "how do you forget? You, especially! How do you just go on as though it never happened?"

"Hermione," Harry said kindly, "I never forget, not really. But I spent my whole life fighting Tom Riddle. Now that he's gone, I want to just live, you know? I want to be normal. I still have nightmares sometimes, but when I do, Ginny is there for me."

Hermione was silent. Harry took her face in his hands.

"You'll be alright, Hermione," he said quietly. "You have Ron, Ginny, and I. You'll pull through. I just want you to be happy." He placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

Hermione smiled tiredly. "Thanks, Harry."

She had left the conversation more restless, if possible, then before. She took to wandering the streets late at night, gazing up at the endless stars. It had been so long since she had been happy. Logically, she knew she was suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder and probably depression. But she didn't much care. It was pointless. Everything was pointless. She couldn't shake the terrible thoughts from her head. Years of bullying came back as Draco Malfoy's voice drifted through her thoughts like smoke. _"Filthy Mudblood."_ Visions of ferocious scarred dragons and murdered Muggles tortured her. She was useless. She was ugly. She was tainted.

The, one summer night, she left her flat for her usual nightly walk. It was raining out. The only sounds she could hear were the raindrops hitting the road and the occasional hum of a car in the distance. She walked slowly down the street, not bothered by the rain that was soaking her. She wandered for hours, not paying any mind to where she was going.

Really, she thought, what was the use?

She walked and walked. The world was dark and quiet. Hermione wished it were always this way. She crossed a street and came to a bridge. The musical sound of the rain on the rushing water stopped her, and she peered over the railing of the bridge, staring down at the river.

It would be nice to be a river. Always flowing, always changing.

She laughed a bit at her thoughts, turning around. But then she paused.

Always flowing. Always changing. She was trapped in this life, haunted by her past. What if she could move on? What if she could find peace?

Was this the way out?

She turned back to the river, thoughtful. Harry and Ron would be upset, yes. But really, this was about her. She would be better. And Harry and Ron would get past it. The thought of not being there for the birth of Harry's first baby hurt, but not nearly as much as continuing on in this life did. She climbed on the wet, slippery railing, and then paused again.

Should she leave a note? An explanation for her friends? She didn't have family, she thought sadly, thinking of her parents. She had obliviated them so well that she hadn't been able to undo the damage. They no longer had a daughter. Essentially, she was an orphan. The thought that her own mother and father wouldn't care if she were to actually jump resolved her. She tossed her legs over the railing and stared down.

It was a rather long fall. Hermione shuddered. She had never been fond of heights. Regardless, she took a deep breath and steeled herself. She closed her eyes and prepared to jump.


	2. Chapter 2

"Don't do it."

Hermione whipped her head around at the sound of the faintly familiar voice. It took a second for her eyes to focus. Tears? When did she start crying?

"Go away," she muttered, turning away from the blurry stranger.

The man stepped closer. "Don't do it. Please." A cloud moved over the moon, and a thin beam of pale light floated down illuminating his face.

Hermione looked over her shoulder, her eyes widening. Draco Malfoy stood there, his pale blonde hair soaked to his head. His grey eyes were unreadable and intense.

"D-Don't come any closer!" Hermione shrieked, trembling. Memories flooded her head, memories of her time in Malfoy manner. _"Mudblood."_

"Take my hand," Malfoy said, reaching out to her. "I'll help you climb back over."

Hermione shivered, cringing away from him. "If you come any closer, I'll jump!"

Malfoy arched one elegant eyebrow. "No, you won't."

Hermione stared at him. "Excuse me? What do you mean, 'no, I won't'? Who do you think you are? You don't know me, Malfoy. And why do you even care? I'm just a…a filthy mudblood!"

Malfoy sighed. "Granger, if you were going to let go, you would have done so already. Now stop being an idiot and take my bloody hand."

"Just…go away," she said in a small voice. "Please."

"I can't," drawled Malfoy. "I'm involved now. The wizarding world would crucify me if I let their Gryffindor Princess do herself in."

Hermione made a strangled noise. "Oh, no worries Malfoy. I'm sure no one would ever even know you were here. Now leave!" She tried to wipe the tears from her eyes, but her foot slipped slightly. Giving a panicked cry, she grasped the railing again with both hands.

"Granger," Malfoy growled, "if you don't take my hand right NOW I swear on all that is and will be that after I jump in to save you, I will kill you myself."

Hermione scoffed. "You wouldn't jump in. The fall alone would kill you. And we all know your passion for saving your own arse!"

Something flashed in Malfoy's stormy eyes, an emotion Hermione couldn't identify. "I'm a decent swimmer," he said shortly. He pulled off his shirt.

"What-what are you doing?" Hermione squeaked, her eyes running over his bare torso. He gave her a knowing smirk. She flushed, looking away.

"I would really rather not have to jump in after you, Granger," he said. "But I will if I have to. Just know that I will be VERY annoyed after."

"Why do you care?" Hermione asked again, desperately. "This isn't your problem, Malfoy."

Malfoy sighed, running a hand through his wet hair. "I don't care, really. Why would I? I just don't want the repercussions of watching you kill yourself."

All the energy seemed to drain from Hermione's body. "Just go, Malfoy," she said tiredly. "Nobody will know you were here. I certainly won't tell anyone." She gave a bitter little laugh, looking down at the river below.

"I have a son," Malfoy suddenly said.

Hermione blinked. "Erm, what?"

Malfoy's face flushed. "I just said I have a son."

"Er," Hermione said awkwardly, "congrats?" She looked at him, nonplussed.

"He's just turned a year old," Malfoy continued. "His mother left him with me when he was two weeks old and never came back."

Hermione stared. "Oh," she managed. "I suppose that must be very difficult for you. I imagine a child must really inhibit your lifestyle."

Malfoy's eyes narrowed. "I love my son," he stated quietly. "I want to be there for him. I want to raise him so he…so he doesn't turn out like…me."

Hermione frowned, her amber eyes meeting Draco Malfoy's grey ones.

"I've made a lot of mistakes," Malfoy continued quietly, his eyes boring into hers. "I made some bad choices, and I…I believed in things that weren't…true. It nearly cost me my life. It certainly cost my parents theirs'. Having a child to care for changed me. The war is over, and the…prejudices and beliefs I've had my entire life don't matter to anyone anymore. I want Scorpius to grow up without them. He already has the stigma of being…of being a Death Eater's son. I don't want him to be like me."

Hermione stared at him, her mind whirling. She tried to process everything he had just said. She opened and closed her mouth several times. Finally, she said weakly, "Scorpius? You named your kid Scorpius? Who does that?"

Malfoy gave a bark of laughter, startling her. She clutched the railing tighter. "Family tradition." Heis laughter faded as he looked at her.

"Now, give me your hand. Please."

Hermione hesitated. If she didn't do this now, she never would. She would have to continue living in hell, trying to put a fake smile on her face to appease her friends.

"Granger," Malfoy said, his voice soft. "Granger…Hermione. Please."

Hermione's head whipped around in shock. Since when did he call her by her first name?

Malfoy held out his hand. "Please."

Hermione swallowed. Then, slowly, she reached out her hand, wrapping her fingers around his. Their eyes met as he helped her climb over the railing. Hermione's legs were shaky, and she stumbled. Malfoy grabbed her, holding her to his bare, wet torso.

"I've got you," he murmured.

Hermione breathed in his scent. He smelled of the rain and spearmint and musk. Taking a deep breath, she leaned back and peered into his eyes.

"What now?"


	3. Chapter 3

Malfoy walked Hermione back to her flat in silence. The moon was sinking over the horizon and the first rays of lavender and pink were painting the sky when they finally reached her front door. Neither spoke as they eyed each other awkwardly.

"This doesn't make us friends," Malfoy finally said.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh, of course not."

"Just making that clear," Malfoy said. "I wouldn't want you to develop some poor crush on me because I was your knight in shining armor."

Hermione chuckled mirthlessly. "No worries, Malfoy. You're hardly my type."

Malfoy looked affronted. "Not your type? Who is, then? Let me guess…Potter?"

She flushed, looking away. Malfoy's mouth dropped.

"Seriously?" he asked incredulously. "Potter?"

"No!" Hermione denied vehemently. "He's with Ginny."

"That doesn't mean you can't like him."

"I-He…" Hermione spluttered. "We are just friends!"

Malfoy arched an eyebrow. "My, my," he drawled. "You are getting quite defensive. Hey, it's no concern of mine if you have absolutely atrocious taste in men."

Hermione's amber eyes narrowed. "Harry is twice the man you will ever be," she huffed.

Malfoy chuckled. "Oh, love, I seriously doubt that."

Hermione blushed at both the term of endearment and the innuendo. "That's-that's not what I meant and you know it!"

"Whatever you say, Granger," he said smoothly, smirking.

"I'm going inside now."

He gave a mocking half-bow. "Be my guest." He began to walk away.

Hermione turned to her front door. Pushing it open, she paused.

"Er, Malfoy?"

He stopped and turned around, arching a brow.

"Thanks."

He stared at her, his grey eyes unreadable, before nodding curtly and walking away. Hermione sighed as she went into her flat and closed the door behind her, locking it. She walked across her messy living room to the bedroom, pulling off her damp clothes and donning a warm cotton nightgown. She tossed her wand on the dresser and went over to her bed. Sinking onto it, she snuggled deep under the sea foam colored comforter, falling asleep instantly. Her half-kneazle, Crookshanks , hopped up next to her and curled into a fluffy ginger ball by her pillow, purring deeply.

For the first time in months, she did not dream of mutilated bodies and glaring red eyes. Instead, she dreamed of pale blond hair, grey eyes, and an arrogant smirk.

Hermione awoke late in the day feeling energized and refreshed. She padded to the kitchen and made herself a sandwich, surveying the state of her flat as she ate. It was a mess. Dishes cluttered the counte rtop and unopened letters spilled off the polished oak table in the middle of the kitchen. Her fridge was nearly bare.

The living room was even worse. Assortments of dirty mugs were clustered on the black coffee table, the pale gold couch covered with clothes. Her floors needed sweeping desperately, and her windows were grimy.

"I've really let the place go," she said to herself. Crookshanks blinked his large golden eyes at her from his perch on the windowsill and mewed reproachfully. She glanced at her familiar shame-facedly. "And I've neglected you, haven't I?" Guilt swamped her. If she had gone through with it last night, who would have taken care of Crookshanks? She hadn't even considered him.

Crookshanks' bottlebrush tail twitched. Hermione sighed. "I'll make it up to you, I promise." The cat stood up, stretching, and then flounced from the room, squashed nose in the air. Hermione bit her lower lip and looked around the room again. This was going to take some work. She considered getting her wand, but dismissed the idea. Cleaning the muggle way would help clear her head.

Two hours later, her flat was sparkling. The dishes were clean and put away, the floor nicely swept, and the windows washed. She had even gone out and got some fresh flowers for the vase on the table. Standing back, she surveyed her work in satisfaction. It felt good to be productive.

Feeling a bit grimy herself, she went to her bathroom and stripped, turning the bath on hot and letting the steam fill the room. She added some lavender bubble bath and let the tub fill before sinking into the luxurious water with a sigh. She closed her eyes, feeling the tension seep from her body. She sank lower in the water and slowly washed her long brown curls, lathering her favorite strawberry-scented shampoo into a thick foam. She slowly slid under water to rinse it, and then picked up a bath pouf, running all along her body. She thought about Malfoy, and her cheeks flushed. She rested a hand on her chest, feeling her heart beating wildly. She wasn't into bad boys, she told herself sternly. No matter if they had rock hard bodies. Her body heated up as she thought about Malfoy's bare chest, rain drops sliding down his stomach toward his jeans. She bit her lip again, her hand sliding lower.

As her fingers stretched out and her hand slid lower down her smooth skin, she felt something rough on her thigh. Frowning, she glanced down. The bubbles had faded, and through the water she could see her arm. The ugly red scars were only slightly distorted by the water.

_Mudblood._

Jerking her hand back up, she stumbled from the bathtub, sloshing water all over the bathroom floor. She tripped over her bathmat and fell, curling up in fetal position on the cold tile floor. Warm, silent tears slid down her face as she stared blankly at the bottom of her bathroom cabinets.

"_Cissy, put the boys in the cellar! I'm going to have a conversation with this one, girl to girl," Bellatrix sneered, looking at Hermione. "That sword is meant to be in my vault at Gringotts, how did you get it? Did you and your friends take it from my vault?"_

"_I didn't take anything. Please. I didn't take anything!" Hermione fell to her knees._

"_I don't believe it." Bellatrix drew a silver dagger from her cloak, pushing Hermione down and straddling her. Hermione's screams echoed through the air as the blade bit into her arm and her blood ran red, so red…_

Hermione whimpered, curling up tighter on the bathroom floor. She clutched her scarred arm in one hand, hard enough to bruise. She should have known better. She didn't deserve happiness. She was nothing. Nothing but a filthy mudblood.


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione stared at her tea before taking a large gulp. It was getting cold. She half-listened to Ginny natter on and on about something or another.

"So then I told him, well, if you don't bloody like yellow it's got to be blue. We decided not to know, remember, but I am fairly certain it's a boy…Hermione?"

Hermione startled, spilling a bit of tea. "Oh, Ginny, I'm sorry!" She flicked her wand, cleaning the mess up.

Ginny eyed her shrewdly. "Is everything okay, Hermione?"

Hermione nodded. "Of course."

"How's work?" Ginny was staring at her oddly.

Hermione gulped. "Erm, it's going okay," she said vaguely, avoiding her friend's eyes as she took a rather large drink of tea and promptly choked.

Ginny waited until she was done coughing up tea before speaking again. "Really? You know, Professor McGonagall was here the other day…"

Hermione paled. "Oh, really?"

Ginny nodded, her silky red hair swinging. "Yes. And funny thing is, she mentioned that a certain Tranfiguration teacher quit before the year had even begun…"

Hermione looked down, fiddling with her cup.

"Why did you lie to us, Hermione?" Ginny asked softly.

"I-I didn't want you all to worry."

"Sitting around that empty flat all day by yourself isn't good for you, Hermione. You need something to keep you occupied, to keep your mind off things." Ginny perked up. "Maybe you need a boyfriend! You know, Colin…"

"Is a bit young for me," Hermione finished firmly. "And no, I definitely do not need a boyfriend."

Ginny pouted. "It would certainly distract you. And there are plenty of single men around, that's for sure."

Hermione laughed, taking another sip of her drink.

"Did you see that Draco Malfoy is now the wizarding world's most eligible bachelor?"

Hermione choked on her tea again. "Oh?" she said weakly.

Ginny nodded. "Yeah, it was in Witch Weekly. He inherited the Manor after his parents…well, you know. Been single for four years. Serves him right, bloody wanker. Even with all his money, no girl is foolish enough to go near him. He always was a bad one. You know, Harry would have been the most eligible, of course, if he hadn't wised up." She grinned and fingered her golden ring.

"He's still at the Manor?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, he's got himself holed up in there. Reclusive, Witch Weekly said."

"I wonder what he was doing here in London, then," Hermione mused to herself.

"Here?"

Hermione looked up. "Erm, yes. I, uh, ran into him the other night while taking a stroll."

Ginny leaned forward, placing her hands on her swollen belly. "Oh? Was he awful to you, like usual? Did you hex him?"

Hermione laughed. "No, he was rather…tolerable. He only had a few nasty moments."

"Oh." Ginny leaned back, disappointed. "Well. He's always been a moody one, blowing hot and then cold. Anyway. You're still helping me decorate the nursery tomorrow, yeah? Harry would help, but he's away, you know, important match and all that. I got the sweetest little curtains, just wait until you see them. They are just so bloody adorable. And the crib! Right steal, that was. Antique white wood. I couldn't pass it up. I told Harry…"

Hermione nodded absently as Ginny prattled on, her thoughts on a certain grey-eyed bachelor. Why had he been in London that night? Why did he stop her?

She absently finished her tea and left, promising Ginny she would return the following afternoon to help set up the nursery. She waved half-heartedly and stepped out into the late afternoon sunshine, blinking in the light. Hesitating, she considered Apparating, but decided to walk. A nice brisk stroll sounded lovely, and her flat was only a few blocks away.

She walked down the street, past mothers pushing babies in prams and kids laughing as they wove in and out of passerby. She past the little bookshop on the corner and paused. It had been so long since she had bought a new book. Maybe Ginny was right. Perhaps she did need a distraction. If so, a nice thick novel was certainly better than a man. She pushed open the glass door and walked into the shop. A bell tinkled softly. She inhaled deeply, the familiar smell of new books invigorating her. Smiling at the young girl behind the counter, she made her way through the aisles, running her fingers idly over the covers.

It didn't bother her that she was in a muggle shop, as she had quite a few favorites to pick up. _Pride and Prejudice _ and _To Kill a Mockingbird _were promptly snatched up, as was a rather cheap paperback depicting a stunning blond woman clinging to a long-haired, bronze-skinned god of a man. _To Love a Wicked Lord._ She laughed softly to herself.

"Seriously?"

Hermione jumped, her heart pounding. Draco Malfoy lounged against a shelf behind her. He was wearing muggle clothes again, a tight black t-shirt and blue jeans. Hermione swallowed.

"What are you doing here?"

Malfoy smirked. "Watching you choose absolute rubbish to read."

Hermione rolled her eyes, pushing past him. "I'm surprised you didn't melt the minute you stepped foot in here. This is a muggle shop, you know."

Malfoy's eyes flashed. "Yes," he said icily. "I had realized that."

Shaking her head, Hermione weaved through the shelves, Malfoy hot on her heels.

"Actually," he said, watching as Hermione read the back of a cover, "I was just coming from your flat."

Hermione dropped her books.

Malfoy smirked, bending down and scooping them up. He handed them to her with a flourish.

"Er, why were you at my flat?"

"I wanted to…" Malfoy dropped his eyes and cleared his throat. "I was just making sure you hadn't done yourself in. Was about to give up on you, but when I turned the corner, I saw you come in here."

Hermione sniffed. "Well, I'm clearly still among the living, though frankly I'm not sure why you care."

Malfoy frowned. "I don't care."

Hermione stared at him. "Right. Okay."

"I don't!" he protested.

"So you just came all the way to London to…?"

Malfoy's pale cheeks flushed. "What I do is hardly any of your business."

Hermione shot him a glare. "Likewise." She clutched her books to her chest and made her way to the counter.

"Hey, that's harsh. I'm a decent bloke. I do occasionally help damsels in distress…and you looked quite distressed that night."

Hermione looked away as they girl rang up her books. She reached into her purse to pay, but Malfoy beat her to it, smoothly sliding a bill across the counter. "Keep the change."

The cashier blushed, peering up at him through her thick eyelashes. "Thank you, sir. That's very generous."

Malfoy winked at her, and Hermione rolled her eyes in disgust. She grabbed her bag and headed out the door.

"Wait up!" Malfoy said, catching up with her.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" she asked in exasperation.

Malfoy rubbed the back of his neck.

"Nothing. We were just walking the same way, is all. Might as well walk together."

Hermione shook her head. "You really are strange."

Malfoy pretended to be affronted, pulling such an indignant face that Hermione laughed.

"Your words wound me, my lady," he said dramatically, clutching his chest.

Hermione shook her head again, still laughing. Then she froze. That was the first time she had actually laughed in…she didn't even know how long.

Malfoy caught the stricken look on her face. "Hey, are you okay?"

Hermione bit her lip. "Oh, er, yeah. I'm fine."

"Go to dinner with me."

Hermione stopped in her tracks, staring at him. "What?"

Malfoy flushed, but met her eyes squarely. "Go to dinner with me."

Hermione was nonplussed. "Why?"

"You do eat, right?"

She nodded slowly. "Yes, but…"

"There's a decent Italian place not far from here if you want muggle food. If not, there's a nice place in Paris…"

Hermione blinked. "Paris?"

Malfoy nodded, checking his watch. "I can make reservations…"

"No."

He looked at her. "No?"

Hermione shook her head. "No." She started walking faster. Malfoy followed.

"What do you mean, no?"

"I mean," Hermione said, "No, thank you."

"You're turning me down?" he said in disbelief.

Hermione nodded. "Yes."

Malfoy looked flabbergasted. "But-but.." he spluttered.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to be your charity case, Malfoy."

He frowned at her. "What do you mean?"

She just shook her head, walking faster as she reached her flat. She opened her front door, looking over her shoulder at him. "Thank you for the books." She then closed the door, leaving Malfoy standing on her stoop with a very puzzled look on his face.

He stared at the door for a few moment before sighing and raking a hand through his pale blond hair. Shaking his head, he Apparated away.

On the other side of the door, Hermione sank down, her heart racing. She closed her eyes, still seeing his flabbergasted face. A small smile tugged at her lips.


	5. Chapter 5

Draco Malfoy swirled his Firewhiskey around before taking a swig. He glared at his glass balefully. Who did Granger think she was? How dare she turn him down? He was Draco bloody Malfoy, for fuck's sake. The richest and hottest bachelor in the wizarding world. Hell, probably in the muggle world, too.

"Draco!" Adrian called from the pool table. "Stop your brooding and come join us!"

Draco growled. "I'm not in the mood."

He and his friends were in the basement of the Manor. The room was low and long, with a mahogany bar on one side and pool tables on the other. This is where Draco and his gang hung out. Draco's group consisted of the other three richest Slytherin purebloods.

Adrian Pucey was the tall and lean with short dark hair and high cheekbones. He had been the Chaser on the Slytherin Quidditch team. He was the only heir to Pucey Inc., the largest broomstick design company in Britain.

Blaise Zabini was a charming and handsome playboy whose fortune had been made by his mother, who was famously beautiful and had seven wealthy husbands who all died in mysterious circumstances. He had his mother's delicate features and was a tall, dark-skinned man with high cheekbones and long, slanting eyes.

Theodore Nott was toned and built, with shaggy brown hair and boyish blue eyes. He had a penchant for older women and was currently dating a lady twenty years his senior.

"You're not still on about Granger, are you?" Theo asked, raising an eyebrow.

Draco fumed. "How could she turn me down? I mean, it's me!"

Blaise laughed. "You aren't really her type, though, are you?"

Draco narrowed his eyes. "I'm every witch's type," he said haughtily.

Adrain chuckled. "No, Blaise is right, mate. Granger's a bookworm. That means she's all into romance. You know, candles and flowers and all that rubbish."

"Why are you bothering with her, anyway?" Theo asked bluntly, grabbing a butterbeer. "She's not exactly up to your standards, is she?"

"I'm not bothering with her," Draco grumbled. "I just am astounded she passed up an once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, is all."

Blaise smirked. "You're losing your touch, mate."

Draco clenched his fists. "I could get her if I really wanted to."

"Oh?" Blaise said, nonchalantly examining his fingernails.

"Yes," Draco snapped. "I could."

"Well," Theo mused, "He probably could. I mean, Granger did date Weasley, didn't she?" He shuddered.

"True," Adrian conceded. "She clearly doesn't have many standards."

"I still don't think he can do it," Blaise said, taking a swig of his butterbeer.

"Why not?" Draco demanded.

"A bird like Granger needs a bit more finesse then you've got," his friend replied.

Draco's pale face flushed. "Want to bet?" He glared around at them all before stomping out of the room and up the stairs.

Theo looked mildly interested. "What do you reckon he's doing?"

The other boys looked at each other and shrugged.

…..

Hermione smiled as she surveyed her work. She and Ginny had spent all afternoon painting the walls of the spare bedroom in Harry and Ginny's flat a pale blue. Cheerful yellow trim decorated with carved snitches lined the wooden floor, and a white cradle sat in the corner. Pale green curtains made of a flimsy material fluttered in the breeze of the open window and a charming rug depicting moving fairy tale creatures sat cozily on the floor.

"It's perfect," Ginny breathed, her hands on her hips and her stomach bulging in her paint-splattered overalls. "Wait until Harry sees it."

"I'm sure he'll love it."

"I'd say let's have a spot of tea, but I'm afraid I'm out," Ginny said apologetically. "I haven't had time to go to the grocer's lately."

"No worries," Hermione said. "Why don't we pop over to my place for a bit?"

"Brilliant!" Ginny led the way to the living room, scooping up some green Floo powder and tossing it in the fire. The fire flashed emerald as she stepped into it. Hermione followed, closing her eyes and wincing as a bit of soot got into her eye. She heard Ginny gasp as they stepped out into Hermione's flat.

"Oh, my."

Blinking, Hermione peered around with watery eyes to see what had provoked Ginny's odd reaction. She froze. The entire room was covered in flowers. Dahlias and tulips and roses of every color cluttered every available surface. A heart-shaped box of chocolates sat on her mantle and a teddy bear was on her couch next to a reproachful looking Crookshanks, who had a large pink bow around his neck.

"Merlin's beard, Hermione," Ginny said in wonder. "Who is this all from?"

Dazed, Hermione just shook her head.

"What's this?" Ginny bent down and untied the ribbon from the cat, who flattened his ears in distaste and mortal insult. "Look. There's a letter tied to this." She unrolled the parchment. Hermione's heart started to pound as her friend began to read aloud.

"_Mr. Darcy had at first scarcely allowed Elizabeth to be pretty; he had looked at her without admiration at the ball; and when they next met, he looked at her only to criticise. But no sooner had he made it clear to himself and his friends that she hardly had a good feature in her face, than he began to find it was rendered uncommonly intelligent by the beautiful expression of her dark eyes. To this discovery succeeded some others equally mortifying. Though he had detected with a critical eye more than one failure of perfect symmetry in her form, he was forced to acknowledge her figure to be light and pleasing; and in spite of his asserting that her manners were not those of the fashionable world, he was caught by their easy playfulness. Of this she was perfectly unaware; to her he was only the man who made himself agreeable nowhere, and who had not thought her handsome enough to dance with."_

Ginny frowned, staring at the parchment. She flipped it over and then looked at Hermione, her brow furrowed. "What the bloody hell?"

"It's a passage from a book," Hermione murmured faintly. "One of my favorites. A muggle book."

"What is it supposed to mean?"

Hermione only shook her head weakly.

Ginny peered at her intently. "Have you been holding out on me? Do you have a muggle boyfriend?"

Hermione choked back a laugh. "No, of course not. Don't be ridiculous. This is a joke, from an…erm, friend."

"Who?"

"Look," Hermione said desperately, drawing her wand and Vanishing the flowers. "Let's just forget about it, okay? Shall we go have some tea?"

Ginny stared at her skeptically. "Hermione…"

"Please, Ginny. Just drop it."

Ginny hesitated, torn between her curiosity and respecting her best friend's wishes. Finally, she sighed.

"Alright, then, if you promise me you'll tell me eventually."

Hermione nodded vigorously. "Of course."

Ginny shook her head in bemusement before waddling toward the kitchen. Hermione hesitated, and then picked up the note and slipped it into her pocket before following.


	6. Chapter 6

Hermione sat at her kitchen table, tapping her fingers idly. Malfoy's passage from _Pride and Prejudice _sat in front of her. What was the proper response to this? Though the gesture was sweet, she knew he had only done it because he wasn't used to rejection, especially not from …people like her. She sighed, blowing a stray curl out of her face. She wished she could talk to Ginny about this, for she had way more experience when it came to men then Hermione. But she knew if she started confiding in Ginny, she would have to tell her when this all began, and she would in turn tell Harry and Ron, who would be furious with her. It would be a nightmare. She frowned, shifting in her seat. Should she write a brief thank you note? She shook her head, rejecting the idea. Malfoy didn't deserve that acknowledgement. In fact, he hadn't even asked her out. He had ordered her.

"_Go to dinner with me." _

Her eyes narrowed as she thought about that. He really was quite arrogant. But, though she wasn't yet sure he was being honest that night on the bridge when he expressed a desire to change, she had to admit he was certainly less arrogant as an adult then he was in their Hogwart's days. Still, he needed to be taken down a peg or two.

Inspiration struck suddenly, and Hermione's eyes lit up. Biting her lip, she got a piece of parchment and a quill.

_"You are mistaken, Mr. Darcy, if you suppose that the mode of your declaration affected me in any other way, than as it spared me the concern which I might have felt in refusing you, had you behaved in a more gentleman-like manner."_

She sat back, satisfied. Two could play at Malfoy's little game. Humming happily to herself, she rolled up the note and got her shoes. She needed to borrow Ginny's owl.

…

Ginny and Harry's place was crowded when she arrived. Harry was back from his match, and everyone had gathered to greet him and congratulate him on his win. Ron was lounging on the sofa, his hands behind his head. He flashed her warm grin. Luna and her husband Rolf were perched on a loveseat, and Neville was standing by the window. Harry himself was in an armchair, Ginny on his lap. George was standing by the fireplace with Angelina Johnson and little Teddy Lupin sat on the floor, playing with a toy train. Hermione greeted them all and made her way to the kitchen. After sending her letter to Malfoy off with Harry's great-horned owl Kuscos, she went to join the others.

"Hey, Hermione, how have you been?" Neville beamed at her.

She smiled back. "I'm quite well. How about yourself, Professor? "

Neville grinned. "Brilliant! I love teaching. It's really my thing, you know? Though we could still use a competent Transfiguration teacher…the one we've got know is rubbish. Couldn't transfigure a turnip into a button is she tried."

Hermione shook her head regretfully. "I doubt Minerva would give me another go."

Harry looked at her. "Would you want to teach, then? For sure?"

She thought about it for a moment. "Yes," she said honestly. "I would. I wasn't in a very good place there for a while, but I think I'm getting a little better. Teaching is something I would enjoy and excel at, I think."

"Then you should owl McGonagall," George encouraged, his arm around Angelina.

Ginny agreed. "I keep telling you puttering about an empty flat all day isn't good for you."

Harry smiled crookedly at her. "Go on, then. Owl her."

Hermione shook her head. "I can't. I just sent Kuscos out, remember?"

Ron frowned. "Yeah, who are you owling, anyway?"

Hermione shrugged vaguely. "Just a friend."

Ginny's brown eyes narrowed suspiciously. "The same friend who decorated your flat with flowers the other day?"

"What?" Ron asked, sitting up.

"What type of flowers?" Luna asked with interest.

"That's so sweet," Angelina said.

Hermione raised a hand. "It wasn't…romantic or anything. It was just a joke."

Ron looked skeptical. "Who would send you flowers as a joke?"

Harry frowned as well, his emerald eyes piercing as he stared at her.

"It's nothing," Hermione said. "Honestly. You lot are the biggest gossips in Britain1"

Harry's face suddenly relaxed, and he chuckled a bit. "So that's how it is, then. I thought as much."

"What, love?" Ginny asked.

Harry waved her question away. "Nothing, nothing." He winked at Hermione, who frowned in puzzlement. "So," he said, rubbing his hands together. "Who saw the match?"

While the others rehashed Harry's performance, Hermione slipped into the kitchen for a glass of water. She startled as she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Are you okay?" Ron asked, his blue eyes intent.

Hermione nodded. "Yes, I'm fine."

"You look loads better. Not," he added hastily, "that you didn't look good before. I mean, you always look good. I mean, er…" His ears grew red as he trailed off.

Hermione laughed. "I know what you mean, Ron." She looked at him fondly.

They had dated briefly for about two months after the final battle of Hogwarts. Their break-up had been mutual, for both had quickly realized that when their lives weren't in mortal peril, the sparks between them just weren't there. They had segued back into friendship without any overly awkward moments. Ron had gotten back with Lavender for a while and Hermione had rekindled her romance briefly with Victor Krum.

"Well," said Ron, still red. "If somebody is harassing you…"

"Nobody is harassing me," Hermione assured him. He looked unconvinced, but nodded.

"Hey, so my mum is having dinner at her place Sunday. Harry and Ginny will be there, of course, and I know she'd love to see you. It's been awhile, and you know how Mum worries."

Hermione chuckled. Molly Weasley always clucked disapprovingly at her when she came to visit.

"Skin and bones," she'd sniff, as though Hermione's weight was a personal offense.

"I'd love to go," she told Ron sincerely. "Hopefully by then I will have been able to owl Minerva as well."

Ron nodded. "You really ought to get your own owl."

"Perhaps I will," she replied thoughtfully. Crookshanks may not like it, but she was sure she could convince him.

"Well," Ron said, "we should get back in there before the others miss you." He gave her a small smile and a fond pat on the arm before joining the others in the living room. Hermione got her glass of water, taking a small sip while staring out the kitchen window.

She wondered if Malfoy would respond to her letter. Then she shook her head firmly. She didn't care if he did or not. Clearing him from her mind, she chugged her water and then went back to her friends.


	7. Chapter 7

Draco Malfoy stared at the parchment in his hands, his eyes dark with rage. His breathing was erratic as he clenched his fists so hard his knuckles turned white. He took a deep breath, willing himself to calm down. He snarled softly, crumpling up the letter.

"More," he growled at the bartender, who gave him a wary look before refilling his glass with Ogden's. Draco swallowed it all in a single fluid gulp and slammed his glass down, staring at the bartender.

"More."

He was beyond anger. Pure unadulterated rage surged through him, blurring his vision. Or maybe it was the alcohol. He didn't care either way. How dare she? He chugged his drink again, the sharp tang of the whiskey bringing tears to his eyes as it burned a path of fire down his throat.

The sounds of the bar were becoming nearly unbearable. People laughing, flirting, having a good time. How dare they be happy when he was so miserable? He gritted his teeth.

"Sorry, mate," a young man, clearly drunk, said as he stumbled past with his friends, accidentally bumping into Draco. "My apologies."

In a flash, Draco was out of his seat, his fist connecting solidly with the young man's jaw.

"Hey!"

The man's two friends pounced on him, but Draco swatted them away easily, kicking the largest one squarely in the groin before punching the other in the face. Blood dripped down his knuckles, but Draco didn't stop. He saw red as he continued brutally kicking the drunken young men long after they had fallen to the ground. Strong hands grabbed him, and he turned and swung fiercely at them, too. More hands held him down as someone shouted "Stupefy!"

Draco's unconscious body hit the pavement with a hollow thud as he was thrown forcefully from the back door of the bar into a grimy alley. He laid there until the spell wore off before getting to his feet and weaving home.

Back at the bar, a crumpled piece of parchment sat innocently on the polished counter next to eight empty glasses.

_20,000 galleons by midnight tomorrow, darling. Or perhaps Scorpius misses his mummy?_

…_.._

Hermione was ecstatic. Minerva McGonagall had owled her back approving her new teaching contract. At the start of term next year, Hermione Granger would be the new Transfiguration mistress. And this time she planned on actually attending the job.

She sighed happily as she stroked her new owl, a soft tawny bird she called Moxie. Crookshanks perched on her lap, purring deeply even as he occasionally shot disdainful looks at the owl perched on the armrest of the sofa. She closed her eyes and leaned back, a small smile on her face. She was finally feeling better after years of being depressed. She wasn't sure what had finally snapped her out of it, but she didn't dwell too long on it. She was just grateful she was back.

Dinner at the Burrow Sunday night had been fantastic. Molly had, of course, fussed over her, embracing her maternally and heaping seconds and thirds on her plate. Hermione hadn't minded. Everyone there remarked at one point or another great change in her demeanor. Hermione was embarrassed. She hadn't quite realized how morose she had actually been. But nonetheless she had great fun. George had everyone in stiches with laughter as he showed off a few of his newest prank products and Ron had enthralled them all by telling a greatly dramatic story of a duel with a dark wizard accused of war crimes. Harry had spent all of dessert pampering Ginny, rubbing her stomach and feeding her bites of pudding. Little Teddy Lupin had promptly curled up in Hermione's lap, chattering away between bites all night.

"Auntie Hermie, there's a baby in Ginny's tummy! Didja know? And when it comes out, it's gonna be like a baby for me to have. Harry says that it will be like my little brother or sister. That means I gotta teach it stuffs, like how to potty and not to say naughty words or Granny will put bubbles in my mouth, and bubbles taste yuck! Also, Harry says I can calls him daddy if I want, 'cuz he wants to be like my daddy. Did you know my daddy? He fought bad guys. Did you ever fight bad guys?"

Hermione had gotten dizzy with the little boy's train of thought. It didn't help that his hair kept flashing different colors, either. But she had murmured the appropriate responses and snuggled him close, breathing in his sweet little boy scent.

All in all, it had been a lovely night, the best Hermione could remember in a long time. She smiled happily, remembering it. She was so lost in her thoughts that the brisk knock at her door startled her. She jolted, and Crookshanks fell off her lap with and angry yowl and Moxie fluttered up onto the mantle of the fireplace.

Warily, she approached her front door, her wand in her hand. If it were Ginny, Ron or Harry, they would have firecalled. She had no idea who would actually come over and knock on her door. She bit her lip, her hand on the knob. What if it was…

There was another knock, sounding decidedly impatient. Hermione took a deep breath before pulling open the door. She was greeted by a bouquet of flowers in her face.

"Hello there, Hermione," Blaise Zabini said, smiling down at her.


	8. Chapter 8

Hermione blinked, staring up at Blaise.

"Erm…what?" she asked rather stupidly, and then blushed. "I mean, what are you doing here? I haven't seen you since Hogwarts…"

Blaise gave her a charming smile. "My good mate Draco was talking about how he ran into you the other day. Nattered on and on about how beautiful you were, so I just had to come see for myself. And you know what?" He leaned down, his warm breath brushing Hermione's ear. "He was right."

"Malfoy said I was beautiful?" Hermione asked dazedly.

Blaise shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, not in as many words."

"Oh." Hermione tried to ignore the sharp pang of disappointment.

"Regardless," he said, "I do know a beautiful woman when I see one. You sure have grown up, Hermione Granger."

Hermione blushed. "Oh, er, thank you."

"Which is why I am asking you to dinner. It would be an honor to escort such a lovely lady as yourself."

Hermione eyed him silently, her mind whirling. Was this all some kind of sick joke between Draco and his friends? She had never minded Blaise. He didn't have a role in the war, on either side. His general demeanor was that he was above it all. And his handsome looks and bad-boy Slytherin attitude had attracted many a Gryffindor female before. Hermione recalled lying in bed in her dorm listening to Lavender and Parvarti gush about him.

"Well," she said finally, "I suppose you were one of the better Slytherins."

Blaise laughed out loud. "Thank you for that endearing compliment."

Hermione made a decision. "Okay."

Blaise smiled at her, pleased. "7:00 tonight?"

Hermione nodded, wondering what she had just gotten herself into.

She sighed, bemused. She certainly was popular with Slytherins lately.

…..

Draco stormed out of Gringotts, his business finished. He Apparated back to the Manor and snapped his fingers, a scowl on his face. A small house elf appeared, bowing.

"Tibby!" he barked.

"Yes, Master Draco?"

"Where is my son?"

"Tibby puts him down for a nap, Draco sir, in the nursery."

He nodded curtly, walking briskly down the hall.

He stood in the doorway of the shadowed nursery for a moment before going in. The room was lavish, adorned with tapestries on the walls depicting life-like dragons snorting fire and unicorns running through dappled forests. Toys were everywhere, stuffed animals and board games cluttering shelves that lined the walls and toy trains snaking across the floor. The walls themselves were emerald green, the trim pale silver. He strode across the plush grey carpet to the mahogany crib in the middle of the room.

His son was asleep, pale white lashes fluttering on smooth cheeks. Draco reached down and stroked the soft, downy hair, as pale as Draco's own. The baby yawned, showing the few pearly white teeth he had begun to get. He bent down and scooped his son up, cradling him close and inhaling the soft scent of heavy, sleeping baby.

The child yawned again before cuddling into Draco's chest, black robes clutched in a small hand. All of Draco's frustrations faded away as he gazed down on the little boy. Scorpius was more than worth the trouble he was going through. Draco frowned, resolving to speak to a proper lawyer as soon as possible. The blackmail he had to put up with to have his son was ridiculous. The child's mother had abandoned him, left him alone and never visited again. At first, Draco had been furious, determined to track her down and force her maternal responsibilities on her. But after much deliberation, he had decided that she had done him a favor and that the child was far better off with him.

But then the first letter had appeared when Scorpius was six months old.

_Transfer 5,000 galleons to my account by midnight tomorrow, or I might regret leaving my child with you._

Draco had written a scathing letter back, refusing the order. The next morning, his owl delivered her response.

_Darling, do be reasonable. Nobody in their right mind would give an innocent child to a Death Eater, now would they? The worId knows of the Malfoy family's shame and dark tendencies. If I were to pursue full custody, I would get it as easy as…well, as easy as taking candy from a baby. Now, for being so troublesome, I will have 10,000 g. in my account TONIGHT._

Draco had paid her the money and had received more demands sporadically over the last six months. His temper was strained and becoming increasingly violent. He knew last night's episode at the bar would appear in her next letter. He was certain she had someone following him, recording his every mistake to be used as ammunition against him. It was infuriating.

He swallowed hard, gazing down at the sleeping child in his arms.

"No matter what," he vowed softly, "I'll never let you go."

The baby snuggled closer, giving a soft sigh.


	9. Chapter 9

Hermione stared desperately at her menu, the words a blur. What was she doing here? Why had she agreed to go on a date…with a Slytherin, no less? She swallowed heavily. The restaurant felt too small and hot. Her heart pounded. She felt as though everyone was staring at her. She glanced down at her glamoured arm. Though she couldn't see the scarring, she could feel it every time she ran her fingers over the glamour. _Mudblood._

"Champagne?" a tuxedoed waiter appeared out of thin air.

"Please," Blaise said graciously.

Hermione watched as the frothy bubbles filled her glass. The waiter bowed and disappeared.

"Hermione?" Blaise asked in concern. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, yes," she said, taking a rather large gulp of the champagne. The bubbles tickled her throat. "I'm splendid. Thanks for asking."

Blaise raised an elegant dark brow, but before he could reply, another waiter appeared to take their orders.

"I'll have the beef tenderloin, stuffed with lobster and chanterelle mushrooms, medium well."

The waiter nodded, turning to Hermione.

"I-I'll have the same," she said. The waiter scribbled the order down and accepted their menus before hurrying away.

Blaise stared at Hermione, his caramel-colored eyes intense. "You look beautiful."

Hermione had spent over an hour getting ready. She had donned a silver sundress with matching strappy silver sandals. Her hair was loosely piled atop her head, a few stray golden-brown curls falling along her face. She had even swiped on a few coats of mascara and some pale pink gloss on her lips.

"Thank you," she said, fiddling with her napkin awkwardly. Her fingers traced her scarring lightly.

"So…" Blaise took a sip of his champagne, his eyes never leaving her.

"So?" Hermione tried breathing evenly.

"Tell me what the great Hermione Granger has been up to since Hogwarts. Cured lycanthropy yet? Campaigning to be the first female Minister of Magic? Discovered any revolutionary new spells?"

She blushed, looking down. "No," she said in a small voice. "I've just been…waiting."

Blaise frowned. "For what?"

"I wasn't sure what I wanted to do," she explained, still staring down. "I didn't even complete my last year at Hogwarts because…well, you know. They gave me my diploma still, but I guess I felt as though I failed for not completing school."

Blaise nodded sympathetically. "Do you know now what career you want to pursue?"

"I'm going to teach at Hogwarts starting next term."

He grinned at her, and she blinked, taken aback. He was always handsome, but the way he was grinning now, so roguishly, was breath-taking.

"Professor Granger," he chortled, taking another sip. "How suiting. You'll be fantastic at it."

Hermione blushed. "Thank you." She lifted her glass.

"So what's going on with you and Draco?"

She promptly choked on her champagne. "Malfoy?" she spluttered. "Nothing. Why?"

"Oh," Blaise said casually, "I was just curious. I mean, you two aren't exactly friends, right? He was pretty nasty to you during our school days."

"No," Hermione said forcefully. "We aren't friends. We aren't anything."

"Good," her date said, leaning forward over the small table. "Because he's a good mate of mine, and I wouldn't want to step on his toes here."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, biting her lip. Blaise's eyes followed her teeth.

"Merlin," he breathed, "You're something else, you know? So innocent."

She looked away. "Not really."

Blaise laughed. "It was a compliment, love. Anyway, you wouldn't want Draco even if he did fancy you, what with all the baggage he has."

"Baggage?"

"Yeah, he's got a kid, you know? A little boy."

Hermione nodded. "Yes, he mentioned that. Scorpius?"

A look of surprise crossed Blaise's face. "He told you?"

She nodded again uncomfortably. "Yes. Why?"

Blaise shrugged. "He just usually doesn't tell women about his son."

"Women?" Hermione said, brow furrowed. "Hasn't he been single for four years? I mean, it said…in Witch Weekly…" She trailed off, her cheeks burning.

"Single?" Blaise snorted. "He doesn't date, if that's what you mean. He brings home a string of girls, plays with them for a few nights and then discards them. He hasn't had a proper girlfriend since Pansy at Hogwarts."

Hermione tried to pretend this news didn't affect her. "Is Pansy Scorpius's mother, then?"

Blaise threw back his head and laughed. "Merlin, no!" He chuckled for a bit before continuing. "We don't know who the kid's mum is. Draco refuses to talk about it, just says it was a one-night stand type of deal. Poor bastard. One night of pleasure that quickly turned into a ball and chain for the next seventeen years."

Hermione frowned. "I thought he enjoyed having the baby around?"

Blaise shrugged again. "I wouldn't know, he never had it around when we are over."

Before Hermione could respond, their food arrived and they began to eat. It was actually quite good, but Hermione's stomach was still so jumpy she could only manage a few bites. The rest of dinner went by quickly, and they decided to take an after-supper stroll before heading home.

The night was cool and breezy, the stars vibrant in the sky. Hermione and Blaise walked side by side companionably in silence. Hermione was still nervous, casting occasional look at her date's face. Blaise's cheekbones were sharp in the moonlight, his lips lush and full. He had long silky dark eyelashes that she as a girl envied. She swallowed, and Blaise cast a side-long look at her.

"Cold?" he murmured, his warm hand brushing lightly over her bare shoulder.

Hermione shook her head wordlessly.

"You've got goosebumps," he whispered, sliding his thumb down her arm. Abruptly, she jerked away.

"Thank you for dinner, but I really must be going," she said, her throat dry. Blaise looked surprised.

"Oh. Well, shall I walk you?"

"No, no," Hermione said hurriedly. "No. Thank you. It was a lovely night. Thanks."

She smiled briefly at him and hurried away, leaving him standing on the sidewalk, an inscrutable expression on his face.

…..

Hermione gently closed the front door behind her, locking and warding it. Crookshanks slunk up and meowed at her, weaving between her legs. She bent and gave him a quick stroke before tossing her purse on the couch and going to the kitchen. She felt she could really use a stiff drink.

She opened her fridge, the blast of artificially chilled air engulfing her. She closed her eyes, letting the cold seep across her skin. A low hoot brought her back. She looked over her shoulder. A dark eagle owl as perched on her kitchen table, his golden eyes reproachful.

"Oh," she said in surprise. "Have you been waiting long?"

The owl clicked his beak, looking away haughtily. She walked over and untied the scrolled-up parchment from his legs. With a toss of his head, the owl shook himself before flying out of the open kitchen window into the night.

Hermione stared at the familiar spiky scrawl as she unrolled the letter. Her pulse began to beat wildly as her amber eyes scanned the brief message.

"_My object then was to show you, by every civility in my power, that I was not so mean as to resent the past; and I hoped to obtain your forgiveness, to lessen your ill opinion, by letting you see that your reproofs had been attended to. How soon any other wishes introduced themselves I can hardly tell, but I believe in about half an hour after I had seen you. _

_Hermione, I'll be at your flat tomorrow night at 8:00 pm. Be home. _

_-Draco Malfoy" _

She read the letter twice, focusing on the passage he had chosen. It was clear enough that he was apologizing for his behavior toward her for the past sixteen years. She bit her lip. He was coming here, to her meager flat? She glanced around. It was tidy but rather small and her up-bringing allowed her to have several muggle conveniences, like a television and electrical lights. What would the great pureblooded Draco Malfoy want to come here for? Would his ice-blue eyes flash in disdain? Would he judge her?

She hesitated, torn. Then, before she could regret her decision, she opened a drawer and got parchment and a quill.

"' _I will be home at 8:00 pm tomorrow._

_-Hermione Granger"_

Whistling to Moxie, she attached the letter to her leg.

"Malfoy Manor," she said softly, stroking the tawny feathers. The owl blinked and nipped her affectionately before soaring out the window. Hermione sat down and the table, emotionally exhausted. First Blaise and now Draco. What was going on here?

She slumped down, burying her face in her arms. When did life get so confusing?


	10. Chapter 10

Hermione paced her living room nervously. Malfoy would be here in an hour. She bit her lip. Why was he coming over? What could he possibly have to say to her? They weren't friends. Perhaps he was still worried that she would do herself harm. The thought caused her to blush. She didn't want to be Malfoy's pathetic charity case.

The more she thought about it, the more agitated she got. Why had he suddenly barged into her life after years of bitter hatred? She was certain there was underlying motive behind his actions. And what was Blaise doing? Was it possible that they were both just toying with her? That had to be it. Neither one had ever expressed the slightest bit of positive interest in her until recently, and she was sure she hadn't changed all that much. She was still a mudblood, after all. She traced her scars lightly with one finger.

She paced back and forth like a caged lioness, occasionally glancing at the clock on the mantle. Half an hour to go. She groaned. Why had she agreed to have Malfoy over? Stupid, she berated herself. So stupid. Was it too late to cancel? Would he be furious? She bit her lip, hesitant, but before she could make a decision her fire flashed green and Harry stumbled out amidst a cloud of soot.

Hermione looked at him in shock. His black hair looked messier than usual and his glasses were askew. His robes were hastily thrown on and hanging off of his shoulder. He also appeared to be missing a shoe.

"Hermione," he panted, his emerald eyes frantic. "It's time!"

"Harry, what's wrong?" Hermione said, panicked. "Time for what?" She had visions of Death Eaters swarming London, casting spells at muggles. Echoes of the war floated back to her, and she felt her heart nearly stop. She couldn't do it again. She couldn't fight, couldn't face death and watch the people she loved get hurt. Not again...

"Ginny!" Harry shouted hoarsely, reclaiming her attention. "Hermione! Ginny! Now! It's time!"

Realization dawned like clouds parting before the sun. "The baby?"

Harry nodded frantically his glasses nearly falling off. "Going to St. Mungo's now! Baby! Ginny! Hurry!"

He disappeared back into the fire, leaving soot on her living room floor. All other thoughts forgotten, Hermione pulled on a coat and grabbed a handful of Floo powder.

"St. Mungo's!"

…

Draco Malfoy took a deep breath. He had spent ages preparing to meet Granger at her flat, much to his friends' amusement. His hair was carefully styled to look messy and he was in muggle clothes, a dark blue polo shirt and creased jeans. He had sprayed just a bit of his spicy cologne and had Tibby pick him up some flowers.

"She's just Granger," he told himself firmly. "There's really no reason to be nervous. It's not as though she's anybody important. She's nothing, just a muggleborn."

Nodding firmly to himself, he knocked on her door.

Nobody answered. Frowning, he glanced at his watch. 8:00 on the dot. He knocked again.

Nothing.

He tried turning the knob. It was locked.

"Bloody hell," he growled, his fists clenching on the flowers. All the time and effort he put into this and the stupid girl couldn't even be bothered to be home? Was she really that inconsiderate?

Draco rapped on the door so hard he bruised his knuckles. "Granger! Open up!"

Nothing.

"Fuck!" He threw the flowers as far away from him as he could. "Bloody hell!" He kicked the door violently, fuming. "Open up now, Granger! I'm not kidding!"

There was no answer.

Ice formed in the pit of his stomach as he realized Hermione Granger had stood him up. Never in his life had Draco Malfoy been stood up. Never. It was an honor to spend time with him. He was a Malfoy, one of the oldest, purest, and wealthiest wizarding families. He was worth his weight in gold. He could have any girl he wanted, and yet this stupid muggleborn thought she could just stand him up? Ridiculous!

'Perhaps she's just out running some errands,' he thought, his pulse pounding. He took a deep breath to regain control of his emotions before sitting down on her stoop. Maybe she just popped out for some tea or something. That had to be it. There was no way she would stand Draco Malfoy up.

He checked his watch again. 8:26. He frowned. Surely she wouldn't be long. He leaned back and closed his eyes, but just as he did there was a crack of thunder and it begun to rain.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" he shouted hoarsely at the weeping sky. "This is just brilliant!"

Hours passed as Draco Malfoy sat in front of Hermione Granger's front door, the rain pouring down upon him. A few feet away, a beautiful bouquet of exotic flowers slowly wilted.


	11. Chapter 11

"HARRY JAMES POTTER, YOU BLOODY BASTARD! YOU BETTER RUN FAR, FAR AWAY BECAUSE WHEN I'M DONE HERE I WILL FIND YOU AND I WILL MAKE YOU SUFFER!"

Hermione didn't think she had ever seen Harry look quite so terrified, not even when he was facing Voldemort and a horde of Death Eaters.

"AND WHAT'S MORE, POTTER, YOU ARE SLEEPING ON THE COUCH FOR THE REST OF YOUR BLOODY LIFE. WHICH MIGHT NOT BE LONG BECAUSE I AM GOING TO KILL YOU FOR DOING THIS TO ME!"

"Don't worry, dearie," the nurse said kindly. "It's just the pain speaking. She doesn't mean it."

"OH YES I DO!"

Ginny had been in labor for nearly seventeen hours now, and was fearsome even with her legs straddled and in a cheerful yellow hospital gown adorned with quacking ducks. Her fiery hair was damp and matted, her face pale and sweaty, and her Weasley temper boiling. Hermione sat by her sat, holding her hand. Harry was pacing back and forth, his face an unnatural green color. In the waiting room of St. Mungo's maternity ward sat Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, George and Angelina, Bill and Fleur, Charlie, Neville Longbottom, Luna and Rolf, Teddy Lupin and his grandmother, and Ron and Lavender Brown, who were currently back "on".

"Can't you give her something?" Harry asked desperately. "A potion or something?"

The nurse, a plump woman with a kind face, shook her head. "We have already given her a mild pain draught, but too many potions during pregnancy and labor could have adverse effects on the child. We will give her another pain draught when she is a bit more dilated."

"COULD YOU LOT PLEASE NOT SPEAK OF ME AS THOUGH I AM NOT RIGHT FUCKING HERE?" Ginny snarled, gripping Hermione's hand painfully. Hermione winced.

A Healer wearing bright purple scrubs that had frolicking bunnies on them entered the room, smiling cheerfully around at everyone. "Alright Mrs. Potter, how are we doing?"

"HOW ARE **WE **DOING? WHAT DO YOU MEAN, 'WE'? I'M THE ONE DOING ALL THE BLOODY WORK, AREN'T I, AND I AM DOING JUST FINE! SPECTACULAR! HOW DO YOU THINK I'M DOING, YOU LOUT? HARRY, I WANT A LESS ANNOYING HEALER! NOW!"

Harry looked apologetically at the Healer who just smiled brightly, unfazed. "Nurse, how many?"

"Eight," the nurse replied. The Healer beamed.

"Excellent, excellent. Only a few more to go, Mrs. Potter, and then the real fun begins!"

Ginny looked as though she was about to get up and brutally strangle the Healer. Hermione cleared her throat.

"So, Ginny…"

Ginny shot her a poisonous look, and Hermione wilted back a bit.

"Erm, have you chosen any…um, names?"

"No," Ginny said sarcastically. "I figured we'd just call it 'hey, you!'"

Hermione bit her lip.

"James for a boy," Harry jumped in, "And Lily for a girl."

Hermione smiled. "Oh, I could have guessed. How sweet."

Ginny growled. "Hermione, you are here to distract me! SO DISTRACT ME!"

"Oh," Hermione said, thinking fast. "Right. Erm, so…." Her mind was blank.

Ginny snarled.

"I went on a date with Blaise Zabini and I was supposed to meet…oh, no! I was supposed to meet Draco Malfoy at my flat last night!"

Stunned silence followed her words.

"You went on a date?" Ginny said incredulously.

"With a Slytherin?" Harry asked.

"Erm, yes," Hermione replied.

"And you were supposed to meet DRACO MALFOY at your flat?" Ginny stared at her.

Hermione nodded weakly.

Ginny's eyes lit up. "Wait! Was one of them responsible for the flowers?"

Hermione nodded again.

"Which one?" asked Harry, adjusting his glasses.

"Malfoy."

"Draco Malfoy sent you a passage from a muggle book and an entire flower shop?" Ginny repeated incredulously. "The Draco Malfoy?"

She nodded yet again.

"Why?"

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know."

Ginny frowned, brushing a tangle of hair away. "There's really no reason for him to randomly start showing interest in you…unless there's more to the story?" She eyed her shrewdly.

"Well," Hermione said hesitantly, "I'm not sure now is really the time or place…"

"Did something happen?" Harry put his hand on her shoulder in concern.

"It wasn't really…"

"Mrs. Potter," the Healer interrupted, "you are fully dilated. I'm going to need you to start to push."

Ginny waved him away impatiently.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Mrs. Potter!"

Hermione frowned. "I guess I was just embarrassed. I mean, why would two of the best-looking Slytherins suddenly want me, Hermione Granger, Gryffindor muggleborn?"

"MRS. POTTER!" The Healer was turning and alarming shade of red.

"I BLOODY WELL HEARD YOU!" Ginny roared. "CAN YOU NOT SEE I AM IN THE MIDDLE OF SOMETHING! YOU CAN FUCKING WAIT, YOU CRAZY OLD FRAUD!"

Hermione stared at her. "Ginny, maybe you should push…we can talk about this later."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "What is everyone's fascination with pushing?"

"Mrs. Potter," the Healer implored. "Please. It's time!"

"Oh, all right," Ginny grumbled, her face scrunched up as she strained. "Don't…"she puffed between pushes, "Think…that…this…conversation…is…over!"

Hermione shook her head, her brown curls flying. She tried to stare pointedly at Ginny's face and not at what was happening a bit lower. The acrid smell of blood filled the room, and she swallowed down her nausea.

"Almost there!" the Healer shouted happily.

"That?" she heard Harry ask faintly. "That's it? That…thing?"

"That's the head," the nurse said.

Harry made a sound of wonderment.

"One more push!"

Ginny grunted, her face the same shade as her hair, and a moment later the sound of hoarse crying filled the air.

"It's a boy!" the Healer shouted.

"A boy!" Harry repeated. "Hear that, darling, a boy!"

The Healer turned to Harry, the bloody and squalling infant in his arms. "Would you like to cut the cord, Mr. Potter?"

Harry nodded, his emerald eyes shining. He drew his wand a performed a mild severing charm.

Ginny strained forward. "I want to see him!"

"Let me clean him up a bit," the nurse replied, carrying the child off to the side. Harry ran out of the room, his scrubs flapping behind him.

"A BOY!" they heard him yelling. "IT'S A BOY!"

Hermione smiled fondly at Ginny, tears in her eyes. "Congratulations."

Ginny beamed. "You'll be godmother, won't you?"

"Of course."

"Here you are," the nurse returned, carrying the baby, who was now bundled in a soft blue blanket. "8 lbs, 6 ounces. Do you have a name?"

"James Sirius Potter," Ginny murmured, staring into her baby's face raptly.

"He's gorgeous," Hermione whispered, running her thumb along the child's red face.

"Isn't he?" Ginny breathed, tears falling from her brown eyes. "Looks just like Harry."

The doors to the operating room opened and everyone poured in. Mrs. Weasley sobbed hysterically over the baby while Mr. Weasley clapped Harry on the back. Angelina, Luna, Fleur and Lavender gathered around the new mother, cooing. George passed out cigars and Ron hugged Harry.

Little Teddy bounced up and down, trying to see over the horde of women surrounding Ginny. "Is that my almost-brother? Can I see him, too? Can I?"

Hermione smiled tiredly. She hadn't slept in nearly a day. She stood up and stretched, working the kinks out of her back. She walked over to Harry.

"Congratulations," she told him warmly, embracing him. "He's gorgeous. Your dad and Sirius would be proud."

Harry nodded, his eyes bright with emotion. "Thanks, 'Mione."

"I'm heading home now, to sleep for a bit. I'll be back tomorrow to help get them home, alright?"

"You go," Harry said, smiling at her. "Get some rest."

Hermione made her rounds around the room, saying her goodbyes to everyone before leaving St. Mungo's. The air was crisp and cool and smelled of rain. She breathed in deeply, clearing out the chemical smell of hospitals from her nose before Apparating to her flat. She landed on her front stoop and drew her wand to unlock and unward her door. As she was opening it, though, something caught her eye.

A few feet away from her lay a bouquet of wilted, soggy flowers. She walked over and picked them up.

Malfoy.

Guilt swamped her. She bit her lip, staring at the flowers.

She would have to apologize and explain things. Should she write a letter? She shook her head decisively. No, she ought to go there in person. She swallowed hard. Go back to Malfoy manor? She stared at the once-gorgeous flowers in her hand. She could do it. She was strong enough. It was unbearably rude of her to leave Malfoy waiting and then not even send a note explaining why she wasn't there. She owed him an explanation, at least. After she escorted Ginny, Harry, and James to home tomorrow, she would head over to Malfoy Manor. She hoped it was the right choice.

Her decision made, she went inside, the faded flowers hanging loosely from her hand.


	12. Chapter 12

The lavish study was silent as the lawyer pursed his thin lips, reading over the notes Scorpius's mum had sent.

"Have you paid her any money?"

Draco nodded. "Yes, about 160,000 galleons. I have the bank receipts here." He handed over a thick blue folder.

The lawyer sighed, rubbing the crease in between his eyes. "And why, Mr. Malfoy, would you do such a foolish and asinine thing like that?"

Draco stared at him. "Excuse me?"

"The mother abandoned the child. That is illegal. Furthermore, she committed extortion and blackmail, both of which are also highly illegal. Why the devil would you not report it to the Aurors immediately?"

Draco was at a loss for words.

"With all due respect, continuing to pay this woman was probably one of the most idiotic things you could have done, Mr. Malfoy. This ought to have been reported immediately and the situation resolved. As far as I can see, the mother has no claim over your son. She could, of course, sue you for custody, but it is doubtful that she would actually receive it."

"But…I'm a Death Eater." He pushed up the sleeve of his robe, exposing his faded Dark Mark. The lawyer grimaced in distaste.

"Yes, well. The charges put forth on you were dropped when the Wizengamot determined that you deflected to the side of Light during the last battle. That and your refusal to murder Albus Dumbledore got you cleared of all charges. The recent assault charges, however, could be used against you."

"So she can't get Scorpius?"

"No," the lawyer confirmed, pushing up his spectacles.

Draco felt as though a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

"However," the lawyer continued, shuffling through a stack of papers, "we need to file for custody immediately. It won't look good that you have waited nearly a year to do so, but I suppose we can say you were hoping the mother would return."

Draco nodded, repressing the urge to hug the stodgy old man. He took a quill and signed where he was told. The lawyer signed as well before putting the papers into his briefcase.

"I'll submit these to the Court today," he said. "I'll be in touch. Good day, Mr. Malfoy."

They shook hands and Draco escorted him to the door.

"Thank you, Mr. Barnes," he said sincerely, opening the door. Then he froze in shock. Hermione Granger stood in front of them, her face pale and her small hand raised to knock.

The lawyer nodded curtly. "Pardon me," he said, edging around her.

Draco stared.

"Hi," she said in a small voice. "Look, I'm sorry I wasn't home the other night. You see, Ginny, you remember, Ginny Weasley? Well, she's Ginny Potter now, and last night she had her baby, and she wanted me there and I had to be there because I'm her best friend, and well, I got so caught up that I completely forgot about you. I know it was very wrong, and I should have written a note or firecalled you, or even sent a Patronus, but I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry."

She realized she was rambling and stopped, her cheeks burning.

"Er," Draco said, shaking himself slightly. "Why don't you come in?"

She bit her lip, her face paling even more. Draco was confused by her reaction, but then he remembered the last time Hermione Granger had come to Malfoy Manor. He cursed himself inwardly.

"Nothing will happen," he promised. "It's changed a lot. I completely redecorated after the war."

Hermione hesitated, rubbing her arm agitatedly.

"I promise," Draco said.

She took a deep breath and nodded shakily. "Okay."

He stood back and let her enter. She slowly walked into the foyer, looking around.

"Would you care for some tea?" he asked cautiously, afraid she might bolt if he spoke too loud.

She nodded again. "Please."

He led her to the main sitting room. She sat down on the edge of a red velvet loveseat, looking for all the world as though she were about to be sick.

"Tibby!" Draco called. His house elf appeared. He noticed Hermione's eyes narrow, and he smirked. He remembered her little SPEW campaign in fourth year.

"Tea, please," he said. Tibby nodded eagerly, her long ears flapping.

"Yes Master Draco sir. And Master Draco, young Master Scorpius is awake, should Tibby bring him to you and your guest?"

Draco shot a glance at Hermione.

"I would love to meet him," she said softly.

Draco hesitated. He really didn't like anyone around his son, but on the other hand she might feel more comfortable with the Manor is she saw a healthy, happy baby lived here. He nodded.

"Yes, you may bring him in."

Tibby curtsied before popping away. She returned a moment later with Scorpius, handing him to Draco, and Hermione's heart melted.

He really was one of the cutest babies she had ever seen. He was sitting up on Malfoy's lap, peering alertly around and garbling. Seeing them together, there was no doubt they were father and son. Scorpius had the same silky pale hair and delicate features as his father. His eyes, however, were different. Where Malfoy's were a shade of the palest blue imaginable, the baby's were the rich color of melted chocolate and slightly turned up at the corners. His skin was also a few shades darker than Malfoy's ivory paleness.

"He's adorable," she breathed. Malfoy grinned.

"Takes after his dad."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "May I hold him?"

She saw Malfoy hesitate before handing the child over. She snuggled him close.

"Hello, Scorpius," she murmured. The baby peered up at her intently before smiling. Drool cascaded down his chin and onto the emerald green overalls he was wearing. He reached up and grabbed a hank of her hair, warbling. Hermione winced, but smiled.

'So," Malfoy said awkwardly. "Weasley and Potter had a baby, eh? Poor kid."

Hermione glared at him. "Yes. A boy."

Malfoy nodded. An awkward silence fell over the room, the only sounds the baby's happy chattering as he tugged on Hermione's curls, one hand in his mouth.

Tibby popped back into the room, bearing a silver tray laden with cups and plates. She arranged them on the low coffee table in front of them and bowed before disappearing again. Malfoy poured Hermione and himself some tea.

"Sugar?" he asked.

"Please. One."

Silence fell again.

"Why were you at the bridge that night?" Hermione blurted suddenly. She flushed.

Malfoy avoided her gaze. "Just in the right place at the right time, I suppose."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "It was the middle of the night and nowhere close to here."

Malfoy shrugged, taking a drink of tea. "Was it?"

Hermione sighed in frustration. "What's the deal, Malfoy? Why are you paying so much attention to me?"

"I'm not," he said shortly.

"Oh, really? Flowers? Passages from my favorite book, a muggle book no less?"

"Just making sure you didn't do anything drastic," he said curtly, running a hand through his silky hair in agitation.

"Why. Do. You. Care?" Hermione spoke through gritted teeth. Scorpius cocked his head up at her curiously, prodding her lips with his chubby fingers.

"I don't!"

Hermione sighed, standing up. She handed the child to Malfoy. "I should go." She turned to leave.

"Wait!"

She paused.

"I…it's my fault you were like that."

She turned back. "What?"

He flushed, shifting the baby to his other knee.

"It was my fault that you were depressed. It was my fault you were on that bridge."

Hermione frowned. "How do you figure?"

Malfoy looked uneasy. "What happened to you here…"

Hermione paled.

"Well, I got a letter. It said that I was responsible for ruining your life and that only I could fix it. At first, I didn't care, you know? Why would I? We aren't friends. We never were. We have been enemies since we were eleven. What was it to me if you were a bit sad? But then one day I saw you walking down the street in London. And you didn't look like I remembered you. You were thinner and sickly looking. No offense," he added quickly. Hermione stared at him.

"But I saw you, and I remembered that letter. And I thought about it for a long while. I want to redeem myself. I want to be known for something other than being a Death Eater and a bully. The war changed me. I saw the actions for my consequences. I saw people killed and tortured. After my parents both died in Azkaban, it made me realize that the staying the way I was before would only kill me. So when I saw you, I thought maybe I could better myself by helping you. But I didn't know how to approach you. I…er…I followed you for weeks, trying to figure out a way to speak to you. I knew I was the last person you would ever want to confide in. But then I saw you on the bridge and I knew I had to say something."

Hermione swallowed hard, sitting back down. "You…stalked me?"

Malfoy flushed. Scorpius cooed.

Hermione took a deep breath. "Who sent the letter?"

Malfoy looked uncomfortable. "Potter."

She processed that. "That day here, with Bellatrix…why did you say you didn't recognize us?"

Malfoy stared down, stroking his son's downy hair. "I don't know."

There was silence.

"I'm not the little toerag I used to be," he said quietly. "I want to raise my son to be better than that."

Hermione breathed deeply. She was overcome by an overload of tangled emotions. She sat, trying to sort through her muddled thoughts.

"Well," she said at last. "Shall we start over?"

Malfoy looked at her, confused. "What?"

She took a deep breath and smiled shakily. "Hi. My name is Hermione Granger. Nice to meet you."

Malfoy eyed her warily for a moment before extending his hand. "Draco Malfoy."

The baby clapped his hands and garbled happily as Hermione and Draco's hands met.

"Well, well, well. What this, then?"

They both jolted and looked up. Standing in the doorway to the sitting room was Adrian, Theo, and Blaise.


	13. Chapter 13

Hermione's eyes widened as the three Slytherins walked into the room. Malfoy stood up, hoisting Scorpius up to his shoulder.

"Hey guys," he greeted casually. "Tibby!"

The house elf appeared, bowing low. "Yes, Master Draco?"

"Take Scorpius back to the nursery." He handed the child to the elf. The baby giggled, tugging on one of Tibby's long ears.

"Right away, sir," she said, popping away with the little boy.

Hermione stared at her lap. She could feel the stares boring into her.

"You remember Granger?" Malfoy said, gesturing toward her. He sounded bored.

"Of course," Blaise said, dark eyes twinkling. He crossed the room and kneeled down, taking Hermione's small hand in his and kissing it lightly, his eyes never leaving hers. "I had a great time on our date the other night."

Malfoy's pale eyes narrowed. "Date?"

Blaise stood up, flashing Malfoy a roguish grin. "Yep."

Hermione blushed as Malfoy directed his glare to her. "Erm, well, it was nice to see you all…again."

Theo gave a snort of laughter. "Somehow, I doubt that."

She stood up, looking at the handsome Slytherin. "Excuse me?"

He shook his head, chuckling. "The Gryffindor princess glad to see us big, bad, evil Slytherins? As if."

"Now, now, Theo," Adrian admonished, casting a charming grin at Hermione. "Don't bully cute girls."

Theo rolled his eyes, holding up his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. My bad. My apologies, Miss Granger." He gave a sardonic little bow.

Hermione resisted the urge to hex him. Her hand curled around the handle of the wand in her pocket.

"So what are you doing here, Hermione?" Blaise asked, draping a companionable arm over her slim shoulders.

"Oh," she said, blushing. He was very warm. "I just had something to tell Malfoy."

Blaise tensed and shot a quick look at Malfoy, a spark of challenge in his caramel eyes. Malfoy lounged against the doorway, looking haughty and bored.

"I believe our business was concluded," he drawled, glaring icily at her.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at his attitude. Why was he being a prat all of a sudden? "I don't know," she said sweetly. "Was it?"

Malfoy's stormy eyes flashed. "It was. Now, if you don't mind…"

"Oh," Blaise said brightly. "Leaving so soon, Hermione? How about I escort you home?"

"I'm certain the brightest witch of the age can manage to Apparate on her own," Malfoy said silkily. "You came to see me, not her."

Hermione raised her chin. "Actually," she said to Blaise, her amber eyes never leaving Malfoy, "I would love that. Perhaps we could stop and get a bite to eat as well? I'm positively famished."

Blaise smirked, tightening his arm around her. "Sure, love."

Malfoy's pale cheeks flushed. "Go, then," he said coolly. "I'm sure you have more important…things…to do."

The tension in the room was palpable and an awkward silence descended before Adrian, always the peacemaker, spoke up. "Well, it was certainly nice seeing you, Granger."

Hermione smiled up at him. She had never minded Adrian Pucey. In fact, she had long ago noticed that he was the only player on the Slytherin Quidditch team who never once cheated. She knew Harry respected him for that, and as far as she was concerned that was enough character reference for her.

Malfoy sighed noisily, examining his nails as if he was supremely bored and unconcerned with his surroundings. "Aren't you leaving yet?"

Theo chuckled derisively.

Hermione cast them both one disdainful glare before looking up at Blaise. "Ready?"

"Always."

With admirable dignity, Hermione took his arm and let him escort her from the room, never once looking back.

…

"He's precious," Hermione gushed, looking down at the tiny baby in her arms. Ginny beamed.

"Isn't he?" She cast a soft maternal look at her son before looking back at Hermione.

"So," she said, her brown eyes sparkling. "I believe you have something to tell me about a certain Blaise Zabini and Draco Malfoy?"

Hermione blushed. "Not so much Malfoy. I went on another date with Blaise, though."

"Seriously?" Ginny squealed. "He's bloody fine, he is. Did he kiss you? Was it spectacular? Have you bedded him yet? Is he as good as he looks? He always did have the tall, dark, bad-boy thing going on. I bet he's kinky, isn't he? Does he use toys?"

"Whoa," Hermione said, her eyes wide. "No, no, and no! What is wrong with you?"

Ginny laughed merrily. "Oh, Hermione. So innocent."

"Not innocent," she protested. "But I do have a bit of decorum."

Her friend rolled her eyes, taking her son back. "So do you plan on seeing him again?"

"Maybe," Hermione said vaguely.

"What was the deal with Malfoy?"

Hermione frowned. She was still fuming about his abrupt change in demeanor. "He's far too mercurial," she said.

"He's always been moody," Ginny said, rubbing the baby's back.

"Yeah," Hermione replied, a bit moody herself. "Anyway. How's motherhood so far?"

The young mother's eyes lit up. "Fantastic! Jamie's no trouble, hardly ever cries. 'Course, Harry's already trying to buy him his first broom. Not until he's six, I say, but do you think the man listens to me?"

Hermione chuckled. "Men."

Ginny nodded affectionately. "What would be do without them?"

"Hey, ladies. What's going on in here? Not gossiping around my son, are you?" Harry strode into the room, smiling warmly at Hermione before casting a tender look at his wife and child. Teddy was hot on his heels.

"Of course we are," Ginny said cheekily. "We must teach them young, after all."

Harry groaned exaggeratedly before taking the infant in his arms. "Hey buddy, what say I rescue you from these scary women and teach you some manly stuff?"

Teddy bounced up and down, his hair black and messy and his eyes emerald like Harry's today. "What 'bout me, daddy Harry? Can yous teach me manly stuff too?"

Harry ruffled his hair affectionately. "You bet, son."

Hermione smiled softly. Harry was such a great dad, and Teddy was adorable. It was clear he got Tonk's personality.

"Alright," Ginny said, wagging her finger at her boys. "No brooms, young men."

Teddy pouted. "But mama Ginny, yous said I gotta be six to ride and I'll be six next week!"

"Ah," Ginny said, putting a finger to her chin. "But you aren't six yet, are you?" She flicked his nose affectionately.

Teddy looked imploringly at Harry, who chuckled and shook his head. "No, no. Don't look at me. I know better than to go against her. She's fierce when she's in a temper. Got a mean Bat-Bogey hex."

Teddy brightened again, looking at Ginny with more interest. "Can yous teach me the Bat-Hogey hex, mama Ginny?"

"Sure," Ginny replied, and Teddy cheered. "When you're eleven."

Teddy's cheer faded as he narrowed his eyes at her. "Let's go do manly stuff, daddy Harry. Mama Ginny isn't very fun."

Hermione stifled a smile as Ginny looked affronted. Harry hastily took Teddy's hand and cuddled Jamie closer, edging out of the room.

"Men," Ginny said again, only with more exasperation.

Hermione gave in and burst into laughter. She hoped Ginny knew just how lucky she was to have her family. Judging by the amused and loving look in her friend's bright brown eyes, she was sure she knew.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Yes, it's short. I try to update every day, and that usually results in shorter chapters. If you would prefer I update less frequently with longer chapters, let me know. In regards to this chapter, it may be incredibly short but it's important.**

Draco smirked as he read the bit of parchment in his hand.

_40,000 galleons. You know the drill, darling._

His smirk intensified as he took a quill and wrote his response, his writing bold and confident. He tied the note to his owl and sent him off into the night.

Take that, bitch, he thought, pouring himself a brandy in satisfaction.

….

Miles away, an elegant and beautiful witch sat at her private bar, smoking a long, slim cigarette. She took a deep drag, blowing the smoke out through lips painted ruby red. Life was good, she thought, staring at her reflection in the long mirror behind the bar. Her beauty was unsurpassed, and thanks to a certain grey-eyed Malfoy, her wealth had grown exponentially. Men threw themselves at her and women glared with ill-disguised jealousy.

Yes, she mused, life certainly was good. She had everything she had ever wanted. Except for **him**. Her velvet eyes narrowed. He thought he was too good for her. He had always thought that, even in Hogwarts. Oh, she had seen the way he had looked at her. She had seen the undisguised teenage lust in his beautiful eyes. But it hadn't been enough, had it? He had dropped her like she was nothing.

She was so engrossed in her thoughts that at first she didn't notice the familiar regal black owl swoop into the room. It hooted reproachfully at her, and she glanced at it as she took another drag.

"Already, darling?" she laughed, removing the letter from the owl's leg. "Usually he waits at least a few hours." She unrolled the parchment, a mocking smile still on her red lips. Her dark eyes scanned the words he had written and her smile slowly faded, only to be replaced with a look of rage. She brushed some of her long, silky dark hair out of her face.

"So," she said to the owl, blowing a ring of smoke at it. "He's finally wised up, then. A shame. I thought it would take him another year at least." She tapped her long red fingernails on the bar thoughtfully. "Well, no matter. We will just have to initiate the next step in our plan sooner than expected. You!"

A large and ungainly man stepped out from behind the bar. He was built like a stump, stout with no discernible neck. She thought idly that he really hadn't changed much from their Hogwarts days. "Madam?"

"Tell the others we are moving forward," she ordered, taking a sip of her brandy. "Begin the preparations."

The man nodded. "Yes, madam." He lumbered from the room.

The woman looked at herself in the mirror as she took another drag. This was going to be fun. Oh, yes it was. And once she was through, once she was the wealthiest witch in Britain, **he** would notice her. He would want her. And she would get him at long last.


	15. Chapter 15

Harry and Hermione sat in comfortable silence, her drinking some coffee and him make a scrapbook of his Quidditch career for his sons and humming a tune rather badly. Hermione was fairly certain it was supposed to be the new hit song by _The Nifflers_. Various photographs and newspaper articles littered his kitchen table. He frowned in concentration, sorting through several pictures of what appear to be him getting hit brutally by a bludger.

Hermione picked up an article and looked at it idly.

**Friends Turned Fans!** the headline read. Below that was a grainy picture of Harry being hoisted laughingly into the air by several people Hermione recognized. Lavender Brown, Parvarti Patil, Dean Thomas, Hannah Abbot, Colin and Dennis Creevey, Cho Chang, Seamus Finnegan, and even some Slytherins, Daphne and Astoria Greengrass.

"Harry," she said, putting the article back down.

"Hmm?" he said absently, pushing his glasses up.

"Why did you write that letter to Malfoy?"

Harry paused and looked up at her. "What?"

She fidgeted uncomfortably, looking through the stack of photos to hide her unease. Harry doing a swan dive for the snitch, a still pockmarked Marietta Edgecombe and gorgeous Cho Chang cheering from the stands. Harry hoisting the Quidditch World Cup over his head, Lavender, Parvarti, Cho, and Ginny squealing and hugging him. Harry standing in the light of the stands with his arm around a still-pregnant Ginny, both waving at the camera, Dean, Neville, Cho, and Ron in the background. "The letter you wrote Malfoy about me."

Harry stared at her, his green eyes puzzled. "Hermione, I didn't write Malfoy a letter. Why would I? We aren't exactly chummy, are we?"

Hermione frowned, putting the pictures back down. Harry waved up at her and Daphne Greengrass stared at the camera from behind him, her coat elegant and her lips painted red. "But…you didn't?"

Harry shook his head firmly. "Did he tell you I did?"

She nodded miserably, staring at the moving pictures. "Maybe he was mistaken." She wasn't sure why he would lie, but if he was lying about that then what else wasn't true? Suddenly she felt like a fool. Malfoy, change? Did she honestly believe that rot?

"You okay?" Harry asked gently, laying a hand on her arm.

She smiled feebly. "Yeah. I guess."

"Don't let that bugger get to you," he said. "I'm not sure why he was talking to you, but you don't need to get mixed up with a guy like him. He's got problems, Hermione."

She gave a sad smile. "Don't we all?"

Harry shook his head. "Not like that."

She was silent, taking another sip of her coffee.

"Ginny tells me something is going on between you and Zabini." Harry flipped through several articles.

Hermione shrugged. "I'm not sure. I think he's just being friendly, or trying to provoke Malfoy for some reason. I mean, why would he like me?"

Harry grinned, glancing at her impishly. "Do you remember fourth year?" he asked, his emerald eyes dancing. She frowned, cocking her head. "When you took me aside in the library and told me I was fanciable?"

Mortification lit up her cheeks. "I-I…"

He laughed merrily. "Well, it's time I returned the favor. You, Hermione Granger, are fanciable."

Hermione blushed a deep crimson.

"Oi," Ginny said, walking into the room, having just put the boys down for a nap. "What's going on here? Fanciable, eh? Should I be worried you're stealing my man, Hermione?" She giggled at the utterly stricken look on Hermione's face.

"No! I mean…I'm not…"

Ginny and Harry both laughed, Harry ruffling her hair affectionately. "Ah, Hermione," he chuckled fondly. "What we would do without you?"

Hermione sniffed in mock indignation, her amber eyes narrowed. "Not graduated, that's for sure."

Ginny chortled, her brown eyes sparkling. "She's right on that one."

It was Harry's turn to pretend affront as the three friends collapsed in laughter, their merriment echoing through the house.

…

Hermione lay in bed, reading a book while absently stroking Crookshanks, who was curled up on her chest. She sighed, turning a page. It was hard to concentrate. Her thoughts kept drifting back to her conversation with Harry earlier.

Why would Malfoy lie about the letter? That was really bothering her. Had he been lying about the rest as well? Didn't he figure she would question Harry about it? It didn't make any sense. She felt depressed. She had honestly believed that he was being sincere, that he was a changed man.

"Well," she said to Crookshanks, who cracked one golden eye open to look at her. "Leopards really don't change their spots, I suppose." He gave an indifferent yawn.

She was surprised at how disappointed she felt. Ever since that night on the bridge, Malfoy had been tolerable, if you didn't count the other day at the Manor when his friends arrived. She still wasn't sure what had provoked the terrible mood swing he'd had that day. He hadn't contacted her since.

Blaise, on the other hand, made it a point to send her cute little letters every day, letting her know he was thinking about her. It was rather sweet, though Hermione was still worried that he had ulterior motives. She wasn't sure why the darkly handsome Slytherin was interested in her, the plain muggleborn bookworm. She bit her lip.

"At least in half a year I'll be teaching at Hogwarts," she told her cat. "Then I'll be far too busy to worry about things such as this."

The half-kneazle twitched a ragged orange ear.

She sighed, leaning back into her pillows. It was pretty sad that she talked to her cat. It made her seem a bit mad. She supposed though that she needn't start to really worry unless Crookshanks started to speak back.

She picked up her novel again, trying to get immersed in the plot. But something was niggling at the edges of her consciousness, something she felt she should be aware of. But it was elusive. It seemed to have something to do with Harry…or maybe his scrapbook?

Shaking her odd thoughts away, she closed her book, setting on her nightstand before blowing out the candle next to her bed and engulfing the room in darkness. She closed her eyes, drifting off to sleep with Crookshanks' purrs reverberating on her chest. Harry…pictures…Malfoy….

Her thoughts faded as sleep took her completely.


	16. Chapter 16

Draco, Blaise, Theo, and Adrian sat around the table, sipping their drinks. The restaurant, a classy wizarding sports bar, was quiet. The only other patrons were across the bar in the shadows, a rather large man and a woman. Occasionally a puff of cigarette smoke drifted across to them.

"So," Draco said casually, taking a pull of his drink. "You still seeing Granger, Blaise?"

Adrian and Theo cast each other wary looks. Lately whenever the Malfoy heir brought up the muggleborn Granger, it was a sign that his temper was precariously close to exploding. Blaise, however, looked supremely unconcerned.

"Yeah," he said. "Why? What's it matter to you?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "It doesn't. Why would it? I just think it's degrading, is all. A muggleborn and a Gryffindor? I just thought you had more class."

Blaise chuckled softly. "She has redeeming qualities."

"Hey, guys," Adrian interrupted with a sort of desperate brightness, "you going to the Quidditch match in Surrey next week? I reckon we could get front row seats, cheer against Potter, you know?"

Draco and Blaise ignored him. Theo gave him an apologetic shrug.

"Oh, yeah?" Draco challenged, his stormy eyes flashing. "Like what? What could possibly be good about a bushy-haired Gryffindor?"

Blaise smiled a long, slow smirk. "Well," he said, staring his friend in the eyes, "for one, her hair smells like cinnamon. Did you know that? Sort of sweet and spicy. And her skin is like the finest silk. Her lips are soft and smooth. Do you want to know what she tastes like?"

Draco's pale face was flushed and his jaw gritted. "Not really," he growled. "That's disgusting, Zabini."

"Why are you getting so upset?" Theo asked bluntly. Adrian kicked him under the table, but he ignored him.

"I'm not," Draco said shortly, his jaw twitching.

Blaise scrutinized him for a moment before lifting one dark eyebrow. "You can't fancy her."

"Don't be ridiculous!" Draco snapped. "I am the great Draco Malfoy, heir of one of the oldest, purest, and richest wizarding bloodlines. I can get any girl I want. I wouldn't settle for something like her."

"Good," Blaise said simply. "Because she's mine."

Silence fell over the table.

"So…about that match…"

Slowly, the talk turned to Quidditch and Hermione Granger wasn't mentioned again.

In the corner, the woman sitting in the shadows gave a slow smile.

…

_My Dearest Hermione,_

_I would love to see your beautiful face once more. If you are amiable, why don't we meet at the café on the corner. Sunday, at one p.m.?_

_Warmest Regards,_

_Blaise_

Hermione stared at the letter, biting her lip before turning to the other piece of parchment on her table.

_Granger-_

_Hyde's Park. By the statue. Sunday, one p.m._

_-Malfoy_

She was bemused. What exactly was going on here? Why did Malfoy suddenly want to meet up with her after weeks of no contact? And Blaise, why had he chosen the same time as Malfoy? She raked a hand through her brown curls, thinking hard. Blaise was charming and suave. He was a gentlemen and incredibly hot. Malfoy was just as hot, but his moodiness overwhelmed her. She was still angry about him lying about Harry's letter, too. But she remembered him holding Scorpius, remembered the tender look in his eyes as he stared at his child. She thought about both Slytherins, her brow furrowed in thought before nodding decisively to herself, her mind made up.

…

Sunday dawned gloomy and overcast. Hermione woke up early, had her coffee, fed her owl and cat, and read the paper. She puttered around her flat for a while, tidying up. Then she donned a casual sundress, ran a brush through her curls, swiped on some mascara and pale pink lip gloss and headed out the door. She walked briskly, the cool breeze tugging at her dress and hair. She reached her destination and glanced at her watch. 12:59. Smiling, she pulled open the door to the café and went it.

…..

Draco paced back and forth in front of the statue in the park, furious. How dare she stand him up again? Who did she think she was? He glanced irritably at his pocket watch. 1:26. His hands clenched on his wand in his jean pockets, barely resisting the urge to hex something. His muscles were tense as he glared balefully at the statue.

Where could she be? Why hadn't she shown up? His fists clenched and his breathing became erratic. He had asked her to meet him so he could apologize properly for the other day at the Manor. And she didn't even have the courtesy to show up!

Three muggle teenagers swaggered up to him, laughing.

"Hey mate," one of them said. "Got a light?" He held out a cigarette expectantly.

Draco's eyes flashed and his jaw clenched. He said nothing.

"Hello?" another one said. "Anybody home?"

"Maybe he's mental," the third sniggered, poking Draco in the chest. "You retarded?"

The teenagers laughed, slapping each other with high-fives. Draco stepped forward and tapped one on the shoulder. When the boy turned to him, Draco punched him square in the face. The sickening crack of a broken nose echoed through the air. The boy doubled over, crimson blood pouring through his cupped hands. The other two teens were stricken, staring at him in shock. Draco grabbed one by the throat and threw him down before punching the other in the gut. He reached into his pocket and touched his wand, imagining using the Crucio curse on the muggle cretins. With a massive show of restraint, he turned jerkily away and briskly walked off, leaving them bleeding on the ground.

He walked aimlessly down several streets, fury coursing through him. His mind was blank, nothing but a seething, angry darkness. He strode past shops and houses until he came to a small muggle café. Glaring at his reflection in the glass door, he entered the shop. He could really use a coffee.

He got into line at the front counter and curtly ordered his drink. The barista looked at him with wide eyes as she made his latte. He took it from her without any thanks and turned to leave, but what he saw before him froze him in his tracks. Nestled together in a cozy table by the window were Hermione and Blaise. His world spun. Hermione shifted nervously and glanced over. Her honey-colored eyes widened in shock as they met his. Blaise paused mid-sentence and glanced over as well. His expression was carefully blank as he took in Draco.

Draco took a step forward. "So," he said quietly. "This is how it is."

Neither one of them answered him. Hermione looked down, biting her lip, and Blaise reached over and took her hand.

"I see." Draco turned and very deliberately walked away, each step heavy. He pushed open the glass door and stepped into the street just as the sky began to weep. Ignoring the rain, he slowly Apparated home.


	17. Chapter 17

_The corridor was dark as Hermione crept through it, her heart pounding in her chest. In one hand she clutched her wand. In the other was a small mirror. She swallowed heavily, creeping through the shadows. The hairs on the back of her neck raised as a soft slithering noise surrounded her. Closing her eyes tightly, she froze, her breathing ragged. She brought the mirror up to her face and opened her eyes. Golden red glare….darkness…_

"_Hermione!" Harry's anguished scream echoed through the air as the masked Death Eater raised his wand. Hermione watched in a sort of dazed wonder as the purple spell shot through the air, striking her in the chest. There was a blinding pain, and then darkness…_

"No!" she cried, jolting awake. Her sheets were twisted around her legs. She took a deep breath and pushed her damp curls out of her face. Running a shaky hand across her face, she swung her feet out of the bed and stood up, fumbling on her nightstand for her wand. Grasping the smooth wood in her sweaty hand, she made her way to the living room. With a flick, the fireplace filled with warm flames. Grabbing a thick blanket, she pulled her feet up on the couch and stared into the flickering fire. Crookshanks mewed as he hopped up beside her, rubbing his soft orange head against her hand. She patted him gently as the fear from her dreams began to fade away.

"What am I going to do, Crooks?" she murmured. The cat cocked his head at her, yellow eyes keen. He stretched and hopped off the couch, sauntering over to the fireplace. With ease, he jumped onto the mantle and rubbed against a vase. Hermione blinked, staring at the vase, which was filled with withered flowers. The flowers Draco had left. Dry petals were scattered across the mantle, and a few drifted to the floor as her familiar walked across.

She bit her lip, frowning. Draco Malfoy. His arrogant, handsome face flashed across her mind. She remembered the look in his stormy eyes when he saw her and Blaise together.

"He probably hates me," she moaned, burying her face in the blanket. Her cat meowed, licking a paw unconcernedly. "And he should. It was rude of me to stand him up like that. But oh, Crooks, he terrifies me! He's kind one moment, and then a bloody arse the next. I don't know how to act around him."

She sighed deeply. Blaise was safe. He was good looking and charming, always polite. And yet Hermione couldn't get Draco out of her head. She groaned. What was she going to do?

* * *

"Draco, mate! Just talk to him!" Theo begged, exasperated. He was sitting in Draco's room, watching him pace around like a caged lion. Adrian lounged across from him, his eyes troubled.

"No."

"It's ridiculous to sever a friendship over a girl. Especially over a girl like that know-it-all mudblood, Granger."

Draco spun around, his eyes flashing. "Do NOT call her that!"

Adrian put a calming hand on the Malfoy heir's arm. "C'mon, Draco. Calm down."

Draco shook him off irritably.

"Zabini knew I wanted her," he growled. "He fucking knew she was mine."

Theo threw up his hands in frustration. "There are plenty of birds out there! You are the heir of the Malfoy family, a pureblood prince! You could have your pick of any beautiful woman! Let Blaise have Granger."

"Why are you so obsessed with her, anyway?" Adrian asked, brushing a lock of hair out of his face. "You were pretty brutal to her in school."

"It doesn't matter," Draco muttered.

There was a clearing of a throat from the doorway.

"A party and I wasn't invited?" Blaise sauntered into the room. Adrian groaned.

Draco's face was shadowed and his voice deadly as he growled. "Leave. Now."

"Look, mate…" Blaise began, but he was cut off as Draco's fist met his face. He stumbled back, blood dripping from his nose. "Why, you little…" He lunged at the pale haired boy, tackling him to the floor.

"She was mine!" Draco snarled, kicking him off and standing over him.

Blaise leapt up lithely, landing a punch to the stomach that had Draco doubled over. "You didn't pursue her like I did!"

"Guys," Theo said, reaching out to grab Draco, who swung around and punched him in the throat. He wheezed, falling down. Adrian sprang forward, lunging for Draco, but Blaise threw a punch at the same time, knocking Adrian back into a dresser. Candles and a vase toppled to the floor.

"I did pursue her!" Draco shouted, knocking Adrian down again as he tried to stand up. Blaise threw a punch at him, which he dodged, but Theo's fist caught him in the ribs.

Blaise growled, kicking Theo in the head. "You don't deserve her!"

Theo groaned from the floor. "She's just a mudblood!" Both Draco and Blaise's feet hit his ribs.

"And you do?" Draco challenged, wiping blood off his lip with the back of his hand.

"Stop it!" Adrian shouted, punching Draco in the face. Theo grabbed Adrian's leg and pulled him down.

"I bloody well deserve her more than you do! You tortured her during school, and oh, yeah! You're family tortured her here!"

Draco swung wildly at Blaise, who ducked. "I fucking love her!"

Blaise froze in shock, and Theo's fist slammed into his stomach, knocking him down. Draco seemed stunned too, and Adrian's punch caught him in the face. He fell to the floor as well, landing in a heap of bloody, angry Slytherin.

They sprawled on one another, breathing heavily. The scent of sweat and blood hung heavy in the air. Suddenly, Blaise began to laugh. Adrian and Theo glanced at each other before bursting into laughter as well. Draco blinked blood out of his eyes, his swollen lips forming a reluctant smile. Soon, all four boys were laughing.

"Draco Malfoy, in love," Adrian chortled. Theo shook his head in amusement.

Blaise grinned at the Malfoy heir, his teeth bloody. "Took you long enough to admit it, mate."

Draco shook his head, chuckling.

"But," Blaise said, his smile fading, "if you mess up, even a little bit…know that I will be there waiting for her."

Draco nodded, his eyes meeting his friend's. After a moment, they all stood up. Theo grabbed his wand, wincing.

"Look at us, purebloods fighting like common muggles."

The boys looked at each other and burst into laughter again. Blaise swung an arm around Draco.

"Well, what are you waiting for?"

Draco looked at him. "What do you mean?"

"Go get her."

Draco's eyes lit up and he nodded, pulling away as he Apparated. Blaise looked bemused.

"I would have at least changed first."

* * *

Hermione sighed, cuddling deeper into her blanket as the fire died down. Her head was a confusing mess of jumbled thoughts and emotions. She rubbed her eyes wearily and stood up to go back to bed. Before she could get very far, she heard the sharp crack of Apparition and then a loud banging on her front door. Blinking, she walked over and pulled the door open. She stared.

Draco Malfoy stood on her stoop. His clothes were torn and looked as though he had come off worst in a fight with a Blast-Ended Skrewt. His pale hair was mussed and his face bloody. One eye was turning a dark shade of purple, and his lips were split.

"Hermione," he said hoarsely.

"Merlin, Malfoy!" Hermione said, her amber eyes running over him. "What happened? Were you attacked?" Fear made her voice quiver.

"Huh?" Draco blinked, then looked down at himself. "Oh. No. Just had a disagreement with Blaise."

"What?!"

"Hermione, listen," Draco said, his eyes boring into hers. "I've been a git, I know. I'm arrogant, and cruel, and thoughtless."

Hermione nodded.

"But something's changed with me. With us. I…I really like you, Granger. You can be bossy, and a bit mental, honestly. Your hair is a mess, and you're friends with idiots. But you are also sweet, and strong, and fierce. You are a good match for me."

Hermione stared at him, unsure is she ought to be flattered or insulted.

"I am Draco Malfoy," he continued. "I can have any woman I want. I'm rich and handsome."

Hermione arched a brow.

"But," he said hurriedly, "that's the thing, see. I only want one woman. And that's you."

Hermione remained silent, emotions warring within her. Draco shifted uncomfortably.

"Well?" he said, a bit desperately. "Isn't this the part you hug me, or something?"

She stared at him critically. "Well…"

"What?" Draco said. "What do you have to say!" His eyes were pleading.

"Well…"she mused. "I really hope you know some good healing spells, because that is going to be one wicked black eye."

Draco stared at her.

She smirked, stepping back. "Don't just stand there, Malfoy. Let's get you cleaned up."

He stepped forward and grabbed her, pressing his lips to hers. He winced at the pain, but didn't stop. She grabbed his torn shirt and pulled him closer, kissing back. The sharp tang of blood filled her mouth, but she didn't care.

Finally, he pulled away. "So…about those healing spells…"

Hermione could only laugh as she ushered him into her flat, pushing the door closed behind her.

From across the street, the shadowed figure waited until it was apparent they weren't coming back out, and then turned and walked away.


	18. Chapter 18

The woman nodded her head once, dismissing the man standing in front of her. "Keep following them. Report back if anything changes." He inclined his head and left. She leaned back, deep in thought.

_So, _she mused, _Malfoy has taken up with Granger. How charming. _She allowed herself a small smirk. _His father must be rolling in his grave. But this…situation…does have some potential. Everyone knows who Miss Know-It-All's friends are. As if we could forget, with her flaunting them left and right. _

The woman's eyes narrowed. She had never liked Hermione Granger, but an incident during school had caused that dislike to turn into hate. And now, here she was. An opportunity for revenge against Granger and Malfoy, at the same time. How perfect.

_Nobody refuses me. I have caught bigger fish than Draco Bloody Malfoy. Why, I was seducing Lockhart and Slughorn whilst still in school. I have been with not one, but three of the Triwizard Champions. I was the Minister of Magic's mistress. All my wealth, all my status…it's all from my beauty and cunning. Sex and blackmail go a long way in today's world. Practically a currency, really. Yes, how dare Malfoy reject me, when I have had the best society can offer me. Except….for one…_

Her hands shaking, she shook out a cigarette and lit it up with her wand. _Him._ The only man she hadn't been able to seduce, hadn't been able to use in her climb to the top of society. Her vast wealth was made up of blackmail, from poor sods like Malfoy. She was close to being richer than most of the wealthiest pureblooded families. And her beauty only enhanced her appeal. Heads turned when she walked into a room. Men stared and women whispered. She relished the feeling. Being at the top was her heart's desire. And who was the ultimate status symbol? _Him. _

She took a long, calming drag. She would have him. She just needed to figure out how to spin this latest news to her advantage. But she would have him.

* * *

The sun was shining brightly in through a window and there was a stifling weight on his chest. Draco cracked one eye open blurrily. A large orange mass blocked his view.

"What the…" he muttered, trying to sit up. Sharp claws dug into his skin. "Bloody hell!"

He groaned, flopping back down. Granger's cat. He remembered it well from Hogwarts. A furry orange menace that stalked the halls at night, rival to old Mrs. Norris.

He opened his eyes again. The bed next to him was empty. He remembered Granger healing him, forcing some nasty red potion down his throat. He remembered them coming in here and laying down. They had cuddled together and fallen asleep. Where was she now?

His answer came from the steam seeping out from under a door across from the bed, which he assumed was the bathroom. Pushing the cat off of him, he slid out of bed, curious to see Hermione's bedroom in the daylight. The room was large and airy. The walls were a pale gold color and the floor was a rich mahogany. Her bed was a lush four-poster, with pale greenish-blue sheets and comforter. Her pillows were fluffy and a darker blue. Paintings adorned one wall, paintings of unicorns and griffins. On the wall opposite her bed there were framed newspaper articles, all showing the success of Potter and Weasley. Near her window, which was curtained with flimsy white lace that did absolutely nothing to block the sun, was a large white wood dresser. He looked at the clutter atop it. Perfume bottles and dried flowers were scattered about. There were a few framed photographs from their Hogwarts days, all showing the Golden Trio.

Next to the dresser was a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf, absolutely stuffed full with books. He ran his fingers over the spines. They ranged from fantasy stories to text books. He smirked when he came across the romance novel he had seen her buying that day in the muggle bookshop.

"What are you doing?" Hermione stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in a fluffy white robe. Her head was wet and her skin dewy.

"Just looking around," Draco replied, crossing the room to her. He kissed her damp lips, inhaling the scent of her shampoo. Fruity.

She laughed softly against his lips. "Well, the bathroom is free, Malfoy. Trust me, you could use a shower."

He made an affronted noise. "Wench."

She smirked as he shook his head in exasperation and went into the bathroom, pulling the door closed behind him. She waited until she heard the shower start up, and then went over to her dresser and pulled out a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Changing quickly, she sat down on her bed.

She was still in shock. Draco Malfoy had slept here, in her bed. She could still smell the faint lingering scent of his spicy cologne. In all her wildest dreams, she had never once envisioned herself and the Slytherin prince together. A small smile crossed her lips as she remembered the feeling of being held in his strong arms. She had slept peacefully for once, with not a hint of a nightmare.

There was a small ding from the living room, and she heard the sound of the Floo being activated. Startled, she leapt up as Harry and Ron wandered into her room.

" 'Mione!" Ron said happily, pulling her in for a hug. Harry patted her back.

"Hey, Hermione."

"What are you guys doing here?

Harry shrugged. "I have a match today. We were just seeing if you wanted to come."

"It'll be great," Ron enthused. "We can spend the day together like we used to, before Harry went all domestic on us."

Harry swatted the redhead's arm. "Teddy's coming with us, you git."

Ron chuckled. "Ah, well."

Hermione laughed, shaking her head fondly. "It sounds great, really. But…I'm spending the day with someone already."

"Who?" Harry eyed her intently.

She swallowed nervously.

Ron stared at her. " 'Mione?"

"Er," she said, biting her lip. Just then, the bathroom door swung open and steam poured out. All three friends turned to see Draco Malfoy wearing nothing but a pale green towel around his hips.

"Malfoy?!" Harry said.

"Potter!" Draco sneered.

"Malfoy!" Ron growled, his ears turning red.

"Weasley," Draco acknowledged.

"And I'm Hermione," she joked weakly. The men ignored her.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked, blinking.

"Hermione!" Ron turned to her. "What's going on?"

Draco grinned roguishly. "Didn't you know?"

He strode over to Hermione, who shook her head frantically.

"Granger and I are in love."

She groaned.


	19. Chapter 19

Hermione hid her face in her hands, her face flushed with mortification. She couldn't believe Draco had said that! She was also incredibly aware of his warm, still-damp arm slung over her slim shoulder, his smooth, nearly naked body pressed against her...

No, Hermione! she scolded herself. Now is not the time!

But his body really was glorious, pale and toned. His skin looked so smooth, like velvet...

She groaned out loud.

Draco cast a slanted look at her, his silver eyes sparkling mischievously, as though he knew exactly what she was thinking.

"Excuse me?" Ron choked out, sounding much like he did when they were being strangled by Devil's Snare in first year. Hermione peeked through her fingers at him. He was turning a rather alarming shade of puce. Harry, however, looked...calm. Hermione's amber eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Love, Weasel. Ain't it grand?" Draco chuckled.

"I'm...you...how dare you...Hermione!"

Draco arched a brow. "I'm sorry, was that English?"

"Ron," Harry said. "Cool down, mate."

Ron turned an incredulous face to his friend.

"Er, Harry?"

"Yes?" Harry adjusted his spectacles.

"Do you realize we just found out Hermione, our best friend Hermione, is shagging Draco Bloody Malfoy?"

"My middle name is Abraxas, actually."

Hermione blinked and looked up at Draco. "Really? I'm sorry."

Ron stared at them, dumbfounded, before turning to staring at Harry.

Harry shrugged.

"That is a pretty terrible middle name," he agreed.

Draco nodded seriously. "It's my cross to bear."

Hermione stifled a nervous giggle.

"You've all gone mad," Ron declared, looking around. "The lot of you is completely and utterly mad."

Harry grinned at Hermione roguishly.

"You like him, then?"

She blushed, looking down.

"I do."

Harry turned his keen emerald gaze to Draco, his laughing eyes turning serious and mature.

"You hurt her, and what I did to Voldemort will be nothing compared to what I will do to you."

Draco smirked.

Ron gaped.

Harry turned to his red-headed friend.

"Alright, mate. We better head out. The match starts soon, yeah?"

Ron stared, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

Harry sighed, grabbing his arm and dragging him back to the Floo in the living room.

"Oi, Scarhead!"

Harry stopped in the doorway and turned, an eyebrow raised.

"Don't just come barging in here anymore. We might be...busy, if you catch my meaning."

A high-pitched strangled noise came from the living room, closing followed by something crashing to the floor and breaking.

Hermione groaned, blushing furiously. She closed her eyes, striving for patience.

Harry shook his head, a bemused grin on his face. He nodded once to Hermione, and then they heard the _whoosh_ of the Floo.

Hermione turned to Draco and hit him in the arm.

Draco looked amused.

"You prat!" she growled. "Stop antagonizing Ron! And stop...stop with all...the...the bloody innuendos!"

"I can't help it. It's so easy."

Hermione started to say more, but she noticed the towel steadily sliding lower on Draco's pale hips. She blushed furiously, looking away.

"Just...get dressed."

Draco yawned. "Why?"

"We're having lunch with Ginny," she replied brightly.

Draco's eyes widened in horror.

* * *

"So, Draco," Ginny said, taking a drink of her tea. "What are your intentions with Hermione?"

Hermione groaned.

"Why, I'm going to shag her bloody brains out, of course."

Ginny snorted, inhaling tea and choking. Draco looked smug.

"Malfoy!" Hermione hissed, mortified. Her face flamed a bright red.

Ginny laughed, wiping tea off her robes.

"Good answer," she grinned.

Hermione groaned again. "Ginny!"

Ginny just chuckled.

"So, I hear you recently reproduced," Draco said.

Ginny nodded.

"James is nearly five months old now."

"And you still have my cousin?"

"Yes, we adopted Teddy."

"I would..." Draco looked uncomfortable. "I would like my son to know his cousin...providing, of course, he doesn't have the same...condition...as his dearly departed father?"

Ginny raised a brow.

"No, he's not a werewolf."

Draco looked relieved.

"Scorpius is a year old now. He should start meeting more members of the family."

"Does that include James?" Ginny said, grinning.

Draco grimaced, opening his mouth to reply. Before he could, he caught sight of a flash of red from the corner of his eye. He looked closer and paled.

"Draco?" Hermione asked, touching his arm lightly. "Are you okay?"

"I was just joking," Ginny said. "You don't have to meet James."

"I'm...I'm fine," Draco murmured, still staring.

He stood up abruptly.

"Sorry, ladies. I must be off."

Hermione frowned. "What?"

Draco patted her head distractedly.

"Scorpius...business meeting...owl you later."

He disappeared into the lunchtime crowd of the cafe.

Ginny stared at Hermione.

"What was that all about?"

Hermione bit her lip. "I don't know."

"It was like he saw a ghost."

Hermione frowned, deep in thought. She glanced around the crowded eatery once again. She had thought she saw someone familiar before Draco left, but she hadn't registered the face long enough for a name to sink in. But something nudged at her subconscious, and Harry's scrapbook floated to the forefront of her mind. She rubbed her brow in irritation.

"Hermione?"

She pasted a fake smile on her face.

"Let's just eat, then."

Ginny cast her a concerned look, but she was too lost in thought to notice.


	20. Chapter 20

"What are you doing here?" Draco's voice was low and deadly.

The woman chuckled, flashing him an indulgent smile.

"I was under the impression this was a public place, darling."

"Are you following me?"

The woman gave a dramatic sigh.

"Is it so bad to want to see my son?"

Draco's grey eyes iced over and his tone grew hard.

"He's not here."

"Clearly."

He felt his fists clench.

"You had your chance to see him. Whenh you abandoned him, remember that?"

The woman smiled a slow seductive smile.

"Haven't you heard?"

Draco 's eyes narrowed.

"Heard what?"

She sighed dramatically.

"Heard that Draco Malfoy was trying to recruit the Death Eaters, of course. That he wants to avenge his father's death by becoming the new Dark Lord. That there is evidence he tortures and kills muggles, and that is the reason the mother of his child had to flee into the night. For her own safety."

Draco scoffed.

"Nobody would believe you."

"I wouldn't say that. I have witnesses, after all."

The cafe seemed blindingly loud to Draco. He glanced around at the people milling by, none of them paying the couple much mind.

"I don't believe you."

The woman snapped her fingers, and a large man lumbered forward like a trained dog his wand held in his beefy hand.

"Goyle?" Draco said incredulously.

The woman smirked, nodding her head to the left. Draco turned and saw Terrence Higgs at a nearby table with Adam Macnair.

"They all recieved the same letter from you, darling. On parchment with the Malfoy family crest. A letter inviting them to your manor to partake in...unsavory activities. Seems as though certain Dark artifacts have also found themselves hidden in your home. Wouldn't it be a shame if Aurors found them? You could go home and look, of course, but without knowing what you are looking for, that might be rather hard. And what will happen is I told the Aurors you Crucio'd me...while I was pregnant?"

Draco looked back at his old childhood friend.

"Goyle, why?"

The man glared at him.

"You turned traitor at the last minute. You and your mother both. We would have won the war if your mother had killed Potter. Instead, we lost everything."

Anguish rushed through his veins as he looked back at the woman.

"What do you want?" he asked quietly. "Scorpius?"

She laughed. "Heavens, no. I've no use for a squalling brat."

"Then what?"

The woman's dark eyes narrowed.

"You've become close to Granger."

"Not her," Draco growled, his hand around his wand.

She slanted and elegant brow, amused.

"Luckily, I have no use for her."

Draco was getting frustrated.

"Then what the fuck do you want?"

"Harry Potter."

Draco blinked.

"Excuse me?"

She leaned forward, her smile gone.

"I want you to bring me Harry Potter."

Draco exhaled.

"You're mad."

The woman's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Wouldn't it be a shame if something were to happen to Miss Granger? I hear she's pretty unstable..."

Draco drew his wand.

"Stay the fuck away from her!"

"Do not doubt me, Draco. I have some of the most powerful people in the Wizarding World in the palm of my hand."

Draco snorted.

"Blackmail always was your specialty."

"If you do not bring me Potter, Granger will suffer a terrible fate. Do not underestimate me, Malfoy. And if, after that, you still fail to bring me Harry, I'll pay a visit to young Scorpius."

"What makes you think I can even get him to you?" Draco asked desperately. "Potter and I aren't exactly chummy."

She smiled again.

"By getting close to Granger, you're getting close to Potter. Just continue with your little fling, and when the time is right, lure Harry Potter to me. But remember, I am not a patient woman, darling."

She leaned forward and kissed his cheek, leaving bright red lip prints on his pale skin.

"Tata, love. See you real soon."

She took Goyle's arm and melted into the crowd. Draco reached up and wiped the lipstick off of his face, numb.

He wouldn't let anything happen to Hermione.

Even if it cost him Harry Potter.


	21. Chapter 21

"Mine!"

Scorpius held his chubby arms up to Hermione, who smiled and scooped him up. She nuzzled him close, breathing in his sweet baby scent as he gurgled and tugged on one of her curls happily. She glanced up at met Draco's eyes, which were a soft charcoal color as he watched his son snuggle into her arms.

Draco and her had been dating for nearly three months now, and Hermione honestly thought that she had never been happier. She cherished the evenings they spent together, reading in front of the fire. And she adored Scorpius and spent as much time with him as possible.

"I think I have competition," Draco said dryly, watching Hermione plant a soft kiss on Scorpius's downy blonde head.

"He is better looking," Hermione said seriously.

"Mine!" the baby chortled, stuffing a hank of Hermione's hair into his mouth.

"He needs a mother, not a girlfriend."

Hermione blushed, looking away. Though she was very fond of Scorpius and Draco, that was a whole other level of commitment she wasn't entirely sure she was ready to make.

"So," she said, changing the subject. Draco arched a brow, but said nothing. "You're going out with Harry tonight?"

Draco suddenly looked stressed.

"Yeah, he invited me out for a pint," he said quietly, avoiding her eyes.

Hermione frowned at his tone.

"I know you don't like him. It means a lot to me that you're willing to spend time getting to know him for me, but you don't have to go."

Draco sighed, taking his son from her arms.

"It's okay. I'll survive."

He made a face at Scorpius, who laughed delightedly.

"If you're sure," Hermione murmured doubtfully.

Draco nodded.

"You're sure you don't mind watching him?"

Hermione smiled.

"Of course I don't. He'll be fine."

Draco nodded, handing the child back to her and kissing her. His lips were warm and firm, and she moaned slightly as he deepened the kiss. He pulled back, smirking. She blushed.

"Be back in a bit," he said, apparating away.

Hermione sighed, and then smiled at the toddler, who gave a drooling grin in return.

* * *

The pub, The Witch's Lion, was noisy and crowded, exactly what Draco was counting on. He took a swig of his Firewhiskey, wincing as it burned down his throat. Harry watched him quietly, sipping his own drink.

"I'm surprised you wanted to come out tonight," he said, pushing up his glasses.

Draco took another drink.

"Yeah."

"Something wrong?"

"I'm fine, Potter," Draco snapped.

Harry rolled his eyes, turning back to his drink.

"How are things with Hermione?"

"Great."

Draco tapped the bar for another Firewhiskey.

"You seem weird tonight. More weird than usual, that is," Harry said, frowning. Something felt off about the way Malfoy was acting.

Draco just shrugged. His face was tense, his eyes dark.

"Why did you invite me out tonight?" Harry tried to keep the suspicion out of his voice as he eyed his former enemy warily.

Draco looked at him, his silver eyes inscrutable.

"I have something to confess."

Harry frowned, taken aback.

"What?"

Draco began to reply, but was interrupted by a boisterous cry.

"Draco, mate!"

Blaise Zabini pushed his way through the crowd to the bar, smiling warmly.

Draco sighed.

"And...Potter?" Blaise said in surprise, eyeing Harry.

"Zabini," Harry acknowledged.

"What are you lads up to? No Hermione?"

"She's at home," Draco said stiffly, not meeting his friend's eyes. Blaise frowned.

"Oh...I see..."

There was an awkward silence.

"Well, have fun, then," Blaise said, edging away. He frowned as he glanced back at the pair by the bar. Something was up with Draco. He would never willingly hang out with Potter, Hermione or no Hermione. What was he up to?

He watched as Draco said something to Potter, who looked bemused but nodded. They got up and, after Draco tossed a few Galleons on the bar, began to push their way through the crowd. Silently, he followed.

* * *

Harry followed Draco as he wove through the throng of witches and wizards in the pub. They exited through a back door and found themselves in an alleyway.

"What is it, Malfoy?" Harry asked lowly, holding his wand loosely in his hand. His muscles were tense as he watched the Malfoy heir pace back and forth.

Draco sighed, running a hand through his silky pale hair.

"Look, Potter, I'm sorry for this."

Harry's emerald eyes narrowed. He clutched his wand tighter, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up.

"Sorry for what?" he asked, trying to keep his voice calm.

"For-"

Draco was cut off by a lilting voice from the shadows.

"Well, well, darling. You actually came through for me."

Harry frowned, trying to make out the woman's face in the darkness.

"What's going on?"

Draco looked pained.

"Potter, I had no choice. Hermione..."

The woman laughed.

"Yes, yes. You did good bringing him to me, Draco. Very good. Here."

She tossed a pouch full of Galleons at him, which he caught in confusion.

Harry raised his wand, enraged.

"You tricked me, Malfoy?"

Draco stared at the coins.

"What...?"

The woman laughed softly.

"He sold you to me, Harry Potter. His relationship with Granger, it was all just a way to get to you."

Draco shook his head slowly.

"No, Potter, that's not..."

"SILENCE!" Harry roared, pointing his wand at Draco.

The woman tsked.

"Now, now, Harry. Do calm yourself."

Harry turned his wand toward the shadows.

"Show yourself!" he growled, his eyes flashing.

There was a low, seductive laugh as the woman stepped out of the darkness. Harry's eyes widened in recognition.

"You!" he breathed, just before someone shouted out a curse from behind him and everything went black.


	22. Chapter 22

Bubbles flew through the air as Scorpius splashed his hands into the bathwater, giggling in delight. His pale hair was plastered to his hair and his face was rosy from the warm water. Hermione smiled indulgently, flicking her wand to turn the bubbles different colors. Scorpius's dark eyes widened in awe as he scooped up some of the colorful suds and threw them.

"Do you like the bubbles, Scorpius?"

The toddler nodded, beaming at her. He spalshed again, drenching Hermione, who spluttered.

"Scorpius!"

The unrepentant little boy giggled, splashing again.

"That's it, you little devil!" Hermione declared, splashing him back.

Scorpius's eyes widened as suds dripped down his face. He stared at Hermione.

"Oh, Scorpius, I'm so sorry…."

Without warning, the child splashed both hands in the water, sending a wave of multicolored bubbles at Hermione. He laughed and clapped his hands.

"Why, you little…" Hermione leaned over the tub, tickling the slippery little boy. He gasped in laughter, wiggling around. Water sloshed over the side of the tub, flooding the bathroom floor.

"Do you give up?" Hermione teased. Scorpius chortled as he squirmed around.

"Alright, little tadpole. Time for bed."

She Accio'd a towel over and stood up.

"Come on, buddy. Time to get out."

The toddler raised his soapy arms toward her.

"Up, mama."

Hermione froze, her heart clenching in her chest.

Scorpius cocked his head.

"Mama, up!" His little voice became insistent.

Hermione blinked, staring at the child as panic clawed in her chest. Shen slowly leaned down and lifted the wet baby out of the tub, wrapping him in the emerald green towel. She carried him to the nursery, dressing him in his pajamas and laying him in his crib. Her thoughts revolved around that one little word.

"Mama."

Was she ready to be a mother? More importantly, was she ready to be Scorpius's mother? What if Draco didn't think she was fit to be a parent? After all, she wasn't exactly Malfoy standards. She wasn't beautiful like Lavendar Brown or Daphne Greengrass. She wasn't pureblood like Pansy Parkinson. She wasn nothing. Just plain bookworm Hermione Granger.

She took a deep breath, tucking the sleepy toddler in. She stood over the crib, watching the baby sleep. His silky eyelashes rested against his smooth rosy cheek.

"Hermione!"

She jumped, heart leaping into her chest as she spun around, wand drawn. Blaise Zabini stood in the nursery doorway, his dark hair tousled and his chest heaving.

"Blaise!" Hermione exclaimed, putting a hand to her pounding heart. "You scared me! Be quiet, the baby is asleep."

Blaise took a step into the room.

"Hermione," he said, his voice low. "Hermione, I have something you need to hear. I need you to stay calm, though. Okay?"

"Blaise, you're scaring me."

"Draco has betrayed you."

Hermione's amber eyes widened in confusion.

"What are you talking about?"

Blaise stepped toward her, putting a hand on her arm.

"He was out with Potter tonight, wasn't he?"

She nodded slowly, dread beginning to creep through her veins.

"He gave Potter to Death Eaters, Hermione. He was paid to deliver him."

Hermione jerked back away from his touch.

"No…you're lying…"

"I saw it, Hermione!" Blaise said. "I saw it with my own eyes."

"No. You're wrong!" Hermione said desperately. "He wouldn't do that to me. He wouldn't…"

Blaise shook his dark head slowly.

"He did, Hermione. He did, and you have to snap out of it. Your friend is in serious trouble."

"Harry," she whispered, horror filling her. "They have Harry."

Blasie nodded shortly.

"Yes."

"Ron…I need to contact Ron!"

She pushed past him, sprinting down the hall to the nearest fireplace, which was in an elaborate study. She grabbed the porcelian jar off the mantle and threw a handful of the glittering green powder into the flames. She stuck her head in, frantic.

"Ron Weasley's office!"

The green flames swirled around her before clearing, showing a lanky redhead sitting at a desk, brow furrowed as he read over something.

"Ron!"

Ron's head jerked up, his eyes surprised.

"Hermione?"

"Ron, hurry. Harry's in danger!"

Ron stood up so fast his chair fell backwards. He dropped to his knees in front of the fire.

"What's wrong with Harry?"

Hermione choked back a sob.

"Draco…he…he betrayed him. He sold him to the Death Eaters."

Ron swore, his face paling.

"Where are you now?"

Tears rolled down Hermione's face.

"Malfoy Manor."

Ron's blue eyes hardened.

"Leave. Now. Where is Harry?"

"I…I don't know. Blaise told me…"

"Zabini? Come through the fire. Bring him. Now."

Hermione pulled her head out of the flames, startled to see Blaise kneeling by her.

"I heard," he said quietly. "I told the elves to watch Scorpius. Let's go."

She nodded, clutching his offered arm gratefully. Her mind was a mix of wildly swirling emotions, adrenaline coursing through her body. Together, they stepped through the fire and into Ron's office.

"Zabini!" Ron barked, not bothering with greetings. "Where the fuck is Harry?"

"He was portkeyed away from an alleyway in Diagon Alley."

"Bloody hell," Ron said, pacing back and forth. "Any idea where he is?"

Blaise frowned in thought.

"The only one who comes to mind Is Rodolphus Lestrange. He went slightly mad after the last battle, never got over Bellatrix or the Dark Lord's death. He is the only one smart enough to put something like this together."

"And what is his motive? Is he trying to become the new Voldemort?"

Hermione swallowed hard, running a shaky hand through her still damp curls.

Blaise shook his head. "It's simple revenge, I think. Harry Potter ruined his life, so he wants to ruin his. You know Potter's got lots of enemies. I'm surprised an attempt on his life hasn't happened sooner, honestly."

Ron nodded once, determination etched onto his face.

"Do you have a location?"

"Crawley."

"Right," Ron said, his eyes flashing dangerously. "Let's go."


End file.
